


For I Must Nothing Be

by MostFacinorous



Series: I Know No I [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Brainwashing, Character Death, Gen, Injury, Loss of Trust, Magic, Magical Bond, Mental Link, Mind Control, Misunderstandings, Near Death, Patricide, Self-Harm, Sharing a Bed, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 09:27:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 58,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17640167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostFacinorous/pseuds/MostFacinorous
Summary: This series was originally a single story, and those who read it in its previous incarnation will know that I used to have more of the story published beyond this point.Do not be alarmed! It is going to go back up. I just need a chance to rework some of the minor inconsistencies in world building that happened when I published before finishing my research. Please feel free to subscribe to the series for notifications when it is published!





	1. One

Steve sat in the tech department at S.H.I.E.L.D., looking at the blown up and enhanced footage from the cameras in Loki’s room. He rewound it and watched again, hoping against hope that he would spot something he’d missed, or be able to make some sense of what had happened.  
He saw himself enter, saw Grima get up to stop him approaching-- saw them react to Loki’s disappearance. He watched as Grima fell back to his knees and as he came forward to comfort him.

But what they couldn’t see, what the cameras could, was how Loki hesitated. He’d done something, made them blind to his presence. Watching the screen, he saw Loki’s face contort as he had to step back, out of reach of Grima’s outstretched hand.  
He could see him looking at Grima’s heartache, could see the moment that he couldn’t stand to any more, and how, after he turned his face away, taking in the resignation that Steve exhibited instead was what had really caused his composure to crumple.

He switched his attention to the next screen, with the footage from the hallway outside of Loki’s door, following his path as he did the same trick to make the staff of NEST unable to see him, and the same to residents he didn’t know. He kept watching until Loki got to the shared common room, and spoke to the residents inside. He couldn’t hear what Loki was saying-- a glitch, they’d told him, maybe from Loki’s tampering, but all of the audio was lost. Loki stroked the keys while he spoke, tapping out some discordant, mindless melody, and as the others began to react, Loki looked straight up and into a camera, suddenly realizing that the cameras would see him. He lifted the staff and sent a bolt of some kind into the lens… and fried not only that camera, but apparently the whole system.

Steve rubbed his face, propped his elbows on the desk, leaned his chin against his hands, and rewound the tapes again, pausing on the expression on Loki’s face when he saw the expression on Steve’s.

Once upon a time, Steve thought he’d have liked to see that expression on Loki’s face. During the battle of New York, maybe. Even for a while afterwards. But now…

He zoomed in and progressed the picture frame by frame.

Why?

He wished he could take Grima aside and talk to him, find out what he knew-- how Loki had found out that S.H.I.E.L.D. had the sceptre, how he had convinced Grima to steal it for him. What he had promised.

But that was half of the problem.

After the cameras cut out, Steve wasn’t sure what Loki did, whether he’d ensorcelled the other residents or just spoken to them… but they had turned a room of the NEST house into a stronghold. Metal filing cabinets had been turned on their sides and welded together with the metal door ripped from its hinges by Melter and Volcana, under the direction of Nightshade, and then piled over with upturned couches. When Steve had gone to investigate the noise, afraid that Loki was destroying the home, Grima had darted before him and hopped into the fray, grabbing the children and keeping them back from the barricade builders, far from any potential harm. They were all sealed inside the room, away from the doctors.

Away from him.

That action was enough to tell Steve that he shouldn’t try and advance, even if Chemistro and Iron Woman hadn’t been standing guard at the top of the wall, helping to keep the staff back. This was a group of powerful people dead set on keeping the children away from NEST and S.H.I.E.L.D. alike. And, from what Steve knew, he couldn’t blame them. He had the list of names that were in there-- it included every resident that Loki had interacted with during his stay, and that was no coincidence.

It had been nearly a full 24 hours now with everyone holed up in their safe area… and Steve had to hand it to Nightshade: the area she had picked was the strongest point of defense in the entire building. There had been only one window, which they had covered over with the lid of the piano, driven into the wall with bookends, likely by Curtis and melted into place by Volcana. There were thick, full bookshelves on the walls at their backs, a communal shower above them, with reinforced floors to bear both water and humans a plenty, and a layer of metal pipes between the two as further deterrent to any who might try to attack from above. Plus, if they were smart, they would have good access to clean water there, until NEST realized and shut down that section of the house’s water lines.

The only person so far able to get in and out was Catseye, a young girl named Sharon whom Steve had never met before. She alone could fit through the small space left uncovered by the piano lid on the window. They had moved a table in front of it, but she was granted free passage, And Steve had called Clint and Natasha to return to NEST to make sure that remained true. She could come out and gather food and other supplies, so that the residents could write down their demands and send them through with her.

NEST had tried negotiations, but when the residents inside the barricade had realized they weren’t being listened to, they’d simply told The Ringmaster to take over as their spokesperson, and it seemed perhaps his real talent was his inexhaustible trove of pointless stories, because after a day, the NEST staff had backed off and stopped trying to coax them out.

He’d been called away by Fury, and specifically ordered Rivera, in easy hearing distance of as much of her staff as possible as well as Clint and Natasha, not to make any moves against the resistance until he returned.

Fury had been, well, surprisingly less angry and more smug.

“I told you, this is on you. I’m holding you personally responsible for whatever happens here on out. You shoulda let me bury him.” Steve felt like a youngster dragged before a dean.

He had clenched his hands and squared his jaw before responding, “He hasn’t done anything--”

“Yet.” Hill had pointed out, and Steve had gone on as if he didn’t hear her.

“Other than uncover that once again, you’ve been keeping secrets and being morally dodgy. You want to tell me about what’s going on with this Cynthia girl?”

“You take care of the hell you unleashed, let us deal with the one we’re trying to contain. How’s that sound?” Fury had done his trick of glaring up at him from under his brow, and Steve had glared right back.

“What’s the plan at NEST?” He’d demanded next, not really willing to let the subject go yet.

“We’re looking into hiding sedatives in their food and water supplies, then moving each of them to isolated rooms until we can build their trust in us back up again.”

“So you’re going to fight back against them without even knowing what they know or think they know? And you expect any of your people to be able to win their trust after you drug them?” He couldn’t properly express his outrage. “My best friend is in there, buried underneath brainwashing and years of your therapy, which now even I’m questioning. Loki either told them something or did something that caused it, and he’s AWOL.”

“So what’s your suggestion, Rogers?” Hill asked, and Fury shot her a silencing glare, but it was all the prompting Steve needed.

“You said this is on me? Good. Let me handle it, my way. I’ll talk to them, I’ll go find Loki, bring him back here, make him talk to them. I’ll convince them to let me try and help-- convince them to trust me. The way they were trying to, before Gr-Barnes got hold of the sceptre and everybody jumped the gun.”

“You know, psychos trusting you doesn’t make for the greatest argument as to why I should.” Fury pointed out, then sighed and pressed his fingers down on the table.  
“I can’t let them stay in there forever. I can evacuate NEST, relocate those people, make that the priority. That may give you two, three days tops while we get them settled. After that, though, I’ll have people chomping at the bit to rectify this situation, me among them. You got three days to find your lost pet. After that, we do things my way.”

Steve had known he needed to focus first on finding Loki. He’d promised Asgard that Loki would get justice, and the last thing they needed was an unfriendly incident with their only intergalactic ally.

“Fine.” Steve had gathered his things, ready to leave, then paused. “Nick? I really do need to know what you’re doing to that little girl.” His words, his tone, even his bearings brooked no argument. Maria Hill looked at Nick, clearly not in the loop either-- the most worrying thing so far.

“All you need to know is that MedSci deemed it necessary-- for her safety, and everyone else’s.” Fury turned away, and Steve had felt his anger boiling up. “Worry about Loki, Rogers. We’ll worry about what to do if you can’t find him.”

And that was what had sent Steve back here, to the security tapes, looking for any clue, anything, which might lead him to wherever Loki had fled to.

He moved the view back to Loki speaking to the residents, hoping to be able to read his lips, but he found his eyes drawn, over and over, to the keys Loki pressed. He was tapping them lightly, light enough that he doubted the recording devices would have picked the sounds up even if there HAD been audio. But he pressed them with a purpose, in an order that didn’t seem random at all.

Steve isolated that clip and sent it to himself on his phone, then forwarded it to Grima.

>I know you’ve got a lot on your hands there, but I’m trying to find Loki and see if we can’t get him to help make this right.  
>Does this mean anything to you?

He waited, not sure why he’d thought he would get an answer.

Sighing, he turned off the computers and pulled his sweatshirt on, fixing his hair as much as he could before heading out. He flipped the light switches and locked the door behind him… and was halfway across the bridge back to the main parking area when his phone dinged in his pocket.

He’d been absorbed in his thoughts, and the noise and little vibration startled him.  
He nearly dropped it fumbling the phone out of his pocket, but once it was in hand, he held it steady, staring bleary eyed at the screen.

>It’s words. The keys coincide with letters.  
>He says

There was a long pause, and Steve worried he wouldn’t get the answer, and would have to try and find someone else to figure it out. But then…

>He says he’ll be back. That I should have faith in him. That he’s in a nice dark spot where no one will think to search him out.  
Steve felt like he might cheer, even though the information was somewhat less than helpful. At least he knew Grima was talking to him.

>That’s amazing, I would never have figured it out.

True enough, he had no real musical knowledge. He hesitated, then wrote,

>How are you doing? Is there anything I can do or get you?

He paused, not sure if he should send it. Not sure if he could carry through on any requests while he was chasing down Loki. But Grima was important to him. He’d figure it out.

This time, there really was no response. Steve got home and managed to grab only about three hours’ worth of sleep, before he was up again. He needed to go to Asgard, needed to talk to Thor. Needed to find out if Loki had any usual hiding places… and if Steve and S.H.I.E.L.D. could get to them before the Asgardians decided the people of Earth were too weak, too lenient, and tried to take Loki back.

He couldn’t let that happen, either.

He dropped a text to Maria Hill, warning her of impending interaction with Asgard, then looked around central park to be sure no one would be caught in the circle with him. He didn’t know why he always came here, other than because he’d seen Thor and Loki leave from here that first time. Still, it seemed as good a place as any. He tipped his head back and called for Heimdall.

There was less elation in the rush of lights and air, this time, and when he landed the gatekeeper looked, if possible, even graver.

Steve didn’t leave right away, but wasn’t sure how to ask…  
“You wish to know what it is I see of Loki.” It wasn’t a question, but Steve felt like he’d miscounted steps, left hanging without something under his foot.

“Yes, please. If you don’t mind.” The words, coming from another man, might have seemed meek. Even coming from him they would have, had he not been on a mission. If he wasn’t Captain America right now.

Heimdall twitched an eyebrow, but turned his gaze outwards.  
“I do not know where he is, nor can I see him. My eye was turned to Asgardian matters when he disappeared. But he has ever hid in the cracks between the worlds. I would be unsurprised to find him in one such place now.” Steve felt goosebumps rising on his skin and shivered.

“These spaces in between-- are they dark?” He asked instead, hoping to make some sense of Loki’s message.

“They can be. Often they exist as tunnels, some long, some short. The deeper ones, perhaps, would leave the traveller in the darkness. Why do you ask?” Steve got the feeling that the Gatekeeper’s curiosity was not piqued often.

“Just something Loki wrote. In a sort of code, he talked about finding a dark spot where no one would find him.”

“Perhaps he needs such a place for his magic workings.” Heimdall suggested, sounding no more satisfied with the answer than Steve felt.

“It just bothers me that he’s seeking out the darkness after spending so long there, being tortured.” Steve tried his ground with the Guardian, curious to how his sympathies fell with Loki.

Heimdall shrugged, the motion controlled and impressive on his frame.  
“You might seek permission to ask Cul. If any know Loki, if any can lend insight, it may be his uncle.”

“Thanks-- I will.” He searched his memory, trying to think if Loki had ever mentioned anyone called Cul, but he couldn’t remember. It was disconcerting, not knowing so much as he thought he did. Loki may have told him his life story, but of course it was abridged to only the most horrific of his moments. Any happiness he’d ever had… Steve didn’t know a thing about it.

He waved in parting and began the walk up towards the hall, his mind whirling.

What he knew of Loki, he liked. But all he knew was suffering, pain, and sadness. Had Loki been happy when invading? Did Steve not like Loki when he felt joy? It was a troubling thought, and worse, made him wonder if he was more miserable than he’d thought he was. Misery loves company, after all.

He let his mind go down that path only for as long as his feet carried him forwards. When he reached the steps at the start of the hall, he shook himself from those depressing musings, and began to climb, shifting his attention instead to what he knew of Asgardian formality, and hoping against hope that the problem of Loki’s whereabouts was not about to be ripped away from him.

Steve was not surprised when it was Sigyn who met him at the doors of Odin’s Hall.

“Is it Loki?” She asked quickly, and he only managed a nod before she began leading him toward the throne room, where it seemed the Alfather was addressing applicants for the palace guards.

The moment Thor spotted him his eyes had raked over the worries that must have been clearly written on Steve’s face. He held a hand up for silence, turned to his father, and spoke softly to him.

Odin stood.  
“I am dismissing all of you for now. Speak to Sigyn, she will assign you rooms to recover from your travels, and you will dine with the court tonight. The remainder of our interviews will be held anon.”

There was a small wave of grumbling, and more than a few furtive glances in Steve’s direction, but none seemed brave enough to speak to him or challenge Odin’s words.

Soon the entire place was emptied out, save for himself, Odin, and Thor.

“I fear you have come to us in duress, Captain Rogers. Please, sit, speak of what troubles you.”

“Loki?” Thor prompted, and Steve sighed and began to tell them.  
They listened, politely not interrupting, though it was obvious that at times they were surprised by what he had to say, primarily when it came to Loki’s recovery and Loki’s care for Grima.

When he finished, there was a long stretch of silence between them, and Odin looked thoughtful. Finally, he spoke.

“Thor, take your friends and a small group of Einherjar, go to Idunn, and guard the fruit. If Loki is loose and with power, the first thing he seeks may well be to reclaim the years he sees as owed him.” From what Steve knew of these people, the order made sense. Any good leader’s first thought should be for defense. But Steve felt a twinge, too-- even if this was the man who had tortured Loki, punished him and imprisoned him, the fact that there was no emotional reaction to the news that the man he’d called son was freed… it didn’t sit right. None of this did.

“Father, let our friends go. Better that you and I not be separated.” Thor looked grim again, and Steve was angry at Loki for making him be the one to bring the news to his family. He was tired of hating them for what they’d done, while simultaneously wanting to side with them for the hurts they’d borne.

“Do you really think it likely Loki will find another so keen to take us in trade for the power he wants so soon after his release? Especially now that all of the worlds have no doubt heard of our triumph over Thanos.” Odin sounded like he was taunting Thor for being so foolish, but it seemed to cover a hurt. Steve found himself almost physically recoiling as the words sank in.

“Another?” Steve spluttered, gobsmacked, before Thor could even begin to formulate a response.

“I had thought you knew-- did Loki leave that part of his tale out? Where he tried to trade my father and I to Thanos? I know not what he sought in exchange, only that when he summoned us, he knelt already before his master.”

“He was kneeling because he’d been tortured, was being tortured! He didn’t try to summon you, he tried to send himself back to you-- to kill him. He wanted you to put him out of his misery.”

Thor scoffed.  
“And you believe such a story? Loki has ever put himself first. When we arrived, he knelt before Thanos. He was whole and unharmed, and upon seeing us, he turned away.”

“He turned away because he didn’t want you there! His magic brought him what he thought of as safety. He was tortured and healed only to be tortured again.” Steve couldn’t believe this was really a conversation they were having.

“Thanos created orphans so that he could build them into his own family, his own army. We learned from the Lady Gamora that Thanos enjoyed making his ‘children’ watch as he killed their parents before he adopted them. How do we know that Loki did not summon us for just such a purpose?” Odin asked, voice wise and logical, but his words pointed. “He renounced us, attempted to sell our lives for his advancement. You are a good man Captain Rogers, you would not have been able to help him otherwise, but you must remember that he has never been good, and the words he says are untruths more often than not.”

“When you were brought before Thanos, what happened?” Steve asked, aware that there was a gap in his knowledge here, but mulishly refusing to believe that Loki had just been playing him. He remembered the way he had looked, the panic attacks-- no matter how good of an actor you are, you can’t fake that kind of trauma.

“My father acted before anyone else could, and raised a shield around the two of us. This enraged Thanos, and he began to have Loki flayed.” Thor spoke with an air of justified satisfaction, and Steve had to remind himself that theirs was a far more vicious race, their idea of justice more savage. It didn’t help.

“If they really had summoned you, don’t you think they would have been ready? So you wouldn’t have had time to defend yourselves?” Steve asked.

Odin looked thoughtful, but Thor shook his head.  
“My father has always been faster than most realize.” He sounded proud, but there was a question there, too… a doubt about what he was saying.

“You think they wanted to have Loki watch you die, but I think it was supposed to be the other way around. And you did, didn’t you? You watched behind that shield for a while before you did anything.” Steve was trying not to be angry, not to let his disgust show, but it wasn’t working. He appealed, one final time, to their humanity.  
“Loki told me that he held out as long as he could. He’d only been on Jotunheim for a couple of days when they got him. The rest of the time he’d been gone before you saw him, he’d been under extreme duress-- torture, healing, abuse. And when he couldn’t take it any more, when he snapped, hoping you’d kill him and end it, you watched. His magic thought of you as safety, as his emergency help. And you did nothing-- worse than nothing. You punished him for it. Took him from one torture and started on another. I have bad news for you, Your Majesties-- if there was any betrayal that day, it was yours.” He knew he spoke hotly, but he still didn’t expect Thor to stand, to rush at him.

He stood quickly, trying to brace for impact, but Thor dodged around him and exited the hall in a hurry.  
Steve took a few steps after him, then hesitated, looking to Odin for advice.

“Let him go. Loki is not the only of my sons still with growing to do.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed.  
“Is Loki really still your son? After everything you did to him-- while you were having men carve his back into ribbons, sewing his mouth shut, burying your spear in his side, was he your son then?”

“He was. He is. All of their lives, I have taught my boys through lessons. Children learn through experience. But they are grown now, their lessons must weigh heavier.”

“And what kind of lesson could you possibly hope to teach by leaving him scarred for the rest of his life?” Steve hadn’t realized he was stalking forward, but there he stood, almost lording over the King of Asgard. He took a deep breath and a step backwards.

“Has Loki told you of what he is?” Odin asked, unruffled. The calm only made Steve angrier. It felt as if Odin thought he was giving one of his lessons now.

“He did. And I saw for a moment, I think.” He remembered Loki with the Uru, before he’d returned it. He’d gone blue all over, darker lines engraved into him, like a tattooed man Steve had seen once at a fair, but his eyes-- they had gone so red. And so scared.

“Loki was raised in a time after we had just defeated an army of Frost Giants. No matter how we tried, he grew to think of them as monsters. And when he learned he was one…” The Alfather trailed off.

“So you thought you’d teach him that he wasn’t a monster by carving something he equated with monsters into his skin?” He felt like he was seeing Bucky’s files for the first time, all over again, that same lurching churning sickness in his stomach. He didn’t bother keeping his disgust out of his voice, didn’t even try not to sound like he was accusing the King.

“I was teaching him that no matter how he tries to hide, from the world, from himself, using an Asgardian guise, he will always be a Jotunn underneath!” Odin was yelling back, now, but Steve wouldn’t back down. Couldn’t. It was too twisted.

“You think he didn’t know already? You think he doesn’t spend every day of his life hating himself for what he is? For how that’s shaped who he is? Reminding himself of that? All you did was take away the only safety he has ever known, take his home, take his control over his own body, and destroy them as thoroughly as the Chitauri and Thanos destroyed his mind!” He stopped his tirade short, reminding himself who he was talking to. “Excuse me, Your Majesty. I’m going to check on Thor, and then I’m going to go find the man who you taught to hate, and see if I can’t undo some of that. Heimdall said I should ask your permission to visit Cul-- will you permit me that much?”

Odin sat in his throne, still and shocked at having been spoken to in such a way. Slowly he came out of it, and just as Steve was about to write it off and leave, he spoke, the words surprisingly calm and thoughtful.

“If you can convince Thor to go with you, you have my blessing, Captain. But do not bring my lost son back here. Asgard should not have taken him in to start with, Asgard will not take him back.” The old man looked old suddenly, all the hot air gone out of him and his fight deflated with it, but there was an air of finality to his statement that made Steve’s jaw clench.

“Trust me, sir. I wouldn’t dream of it.” Steve bowed and made his way out of the room, hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to dissipate some of the aggression that had built up throughout the conversation.

He’d been somewhat worried about being able to find Thor, but he hadn’t made it far.

The god of thunder was on his knees in his father’s castle, his head in a potted plant, his stomach heaving. And as much as Steve hated being the person to do that to him, he felt a wave of hope from it.

“Never have I failed someone so thoroughly as I have Loki.” Thor said, his words more mournful than Steve had ever heard him before. “Not even the mother I could not save.”

“Loki isn’t dead. It’s not too late to help him.” Steve pointed out, kneeling beside him to put a hand on his back. He remembered what Loki had said about how he was responsible for their mother’s death, but now was probably not the best time to bring that up. Not to mention, with Loki, it was hard to say how much of that guilt was deserved. He tended to accept responsibility for things he hadn’t actually done, as well as some that he had, while turning a blind eye to others. It made it hard to tell exactly how much of a bad guy he was. Still was. Had been. But right now… right now the important part was finding him. Steve would deal with the rest when he got to it.  
“Thor, you’re my friend. And over time, Loki has… well, I came to care for him, too. Help me find him, help me try and make this right.”

“Nothing that I do may ever make this right again.” Thor told him, looking up with tear filled eyes.  
“But not doing anything at all only makes it more wrong.” Steve pointed out. “Please Thor, Heimdall said I should ask to be taken to speak with Cul. Odin said if you could be convinced…” But he saw how Thor recoiled. “What is it?”

“Cul, my uncle… Loki was ever compared to him as a child. It was the most hurtful thing any man could say to him. Cul was a traitor, the god of fear who became obsessed with power, obsessed with ruling. He was treacherous, treasonous…” Thor trailed off, and Steve inhaled sharply.

“And Loki hates making liars out of people that aren’t him.” It hurt, seeing how long the destructive streak had been a part of Loki. Almost from birth, it seemed. And it had been allowed to fester for centuries.

“When Loki took my father’s place on the throne, he put the true Odin in the cage that he had imprisoned his brother in. He gave him to Cul, I think expecting that Cul might kill him.” Thor’s face twisted, and Steve was sure he was drawing the lines, finding the parallels between his father and his brother and he and Loki.

“But he didn’t.” Steve prompted.

“I expect that is why Heimdall urges you to speak with him.” Thor’s distaste was plain, but also his respect for the gatekeeper. Steve knew he wouldn’t have to ask again. Thor had already made up his mind.  
“I will go with you. Give me but a short time to gather supplies, and we will go to Cul, and from there, on to find Loki. We will…” he swallowed thickly, voice going heavy with guilt. “We will help my brother.”

Steve thought his grin might split his face in half. Suddenly, he had hope for this whole foolish enterprise.  
***  
Alone and able to concentrate inwardly, Loki set to learning the intricacies of this new type of magic.

He let it flow through him, filling gaps that hadn’t been there the last time he’d wielded the sceptre. Before, his own power had served as a partial barrier, keeping it from coiling through him, but now the green of his power was drained to the tiniest of dregs, and the blue filled his veins.

It pulled at him oddly, like ill fitting clothing. Where his seidhr tasted of Asgardian Autumn nights, crisp and filled with life, this was something sharper. Something cleaner, not colder, per se, but… more sterile.

It worked through him, waking him up in a way he’d never felt before, twisting and churning and mending his ills, as magic returned to any magic user would, but pulling at his mind, expanding it. If the torture he’d faced had splintered his mind, this potent force was filling in the cracks and developing outwards. It wasn’t painful, or physical. But for the briefest of moments, he thought he might think as Heimdall sees. For seconds that dragged on indefinitely, he understood too much. And distantly, the thought occurred: This is going to consume me.

And then, like elastic, it encountered the core shining green of his being and snapped back, ceasing its advance and falling into a restful stillness throughout him. It was tranquil, this energy, and he felt refilled by it, but he knew that the moment the sceptre was removed from him, it would only be a matter of time before he was drained, possibly more damagingly than the state he’d been left in before.

There was a danger to it, this overabundance of power. If he lost it-- when he lost it--

But it didn’t bear thinking on that now. Now, he had to learn it, learn its limitations. But Grima had been right. He needed someone to try this all on. But he didn’t think he could do that to him. Not to Grima. He worried his lip, then reached out to the master of this pocket universe, the man who currently hosted him.

“Doctor Ohnn?” He spoke aloud, and though his voice was hesitant, he was certain that only the man he was tucked into could hear him.  
“Loki?” Came the immediate nonverbal response. A convenient side effect of having crawled into his face while clutching the infinity stone of mind was that Loki could communicate without ever needing to risk capture.  
“May I look through your eyes, just for a moment?” He asked. Another of those happy accidents of circumstance. Loki had assured Spot that he would do nothing without first obtaining permission, and Loki knew that he would not so much as ask to go through memories. He wouldn’t be responsible for harming another in the way he had Barton, or the way that HYDRA had Grima.

“...Yeah. Alright.” Ohnn responded, and before he could address the hesitance, Loki felt like his entire being was blinking, and then suddenly light crashed into his consciousness.  
He looked out and into the inside of the safe area that they had made for themselves.

He was not at all sure how long it might last, but it seemed to be holding and relatively calm for the time being.

Grima sat off to the side, but where Loki had been afraid he might have withdrawn, he was with Sharon, helping to plait her hair into a long neat row. True, though, he wasn’t talking, and they were as far removed from the others as their cramped quarters would allow, so it seemed likely that Sharon had shown up and all but crawled into his lap, demanding his attention and ensuring that he was not alone.  
Loki made a mental note to thank her later, if he ever got the chance.

Sitting in the empty space in the middle of the room where the couches used to be, Martha and Chris were practicing by melting what remained of the TV with their powers, Martha assumedly aiding Chris in understanding his better. Someone had helpfully placed a fire extinguisher beside them, and from the ceiling, a slow leak had begun filling a bucket of water. Further away, Melina was running Cynthia through some basic self defense strategies, correcting stances and helping to get her in a better shape to fight off anybody who might try and get her back into that chair. It seemed a good match, the two of them, much like Martha and Chris.

Ohnn himself was seated with his back to the barricade, a book in hand that had been dumped off the shelves that now made part of his backrest. Above him, peering out between the roof and the wall they had built, were Curtis and Tilda, their attentions focused on searching for any weak places, in the hope of finding them before NEST and SHIELD did, as well as trying to tell what it was they were waiting for. Maynard hovered behind them, posturing and mainly being ignored.

“They’re evacuating all of the other residents.” Ohnn supplied helpfully for Loki. “I think they’re treating us like a bomb waiting to go off-- get everyone else out before they touch anything.”

“Not a bad idea, though if things get bad before I’m ready, I hope you’ll let me know so I can at least do my part.” Loki said, words echoing in the blackness he was submerged in.

“We’re alright for now, but I don’t know how much longer they’ll stick to Captain America’s orders. He hasn’t been here for a while, and Sharon’s going to have to go out and find some more food for us soon.”

“Have you been having Grima or Melina check the rations? I think they’re probably the best suited for such things.” Loki asked, already withdrawing slightly from the view.

“We have. Nothing yet.” Spot assured him. “You seem to have a little time, compliments of your friend the Captain. Use it wisely.”

“I am trying.” Loki said, willing as much honesty into his voice as he could muster.

Ohnn hummed and Loki felt the disconnect as he slunk back into his own body, his own mind. He opened his eyes to see the blue glow coming off of him, only to be swallowed by the pin spots of the various exits from the void.

Ohnn had explained his private dimension as a sort of corridor, and everywhere within it had the potential to be another spot, another portal. Loki had found a safe place and seated himself on the nothing there, then taken the magic into him.  
At the moment, he gave off a slight glow of shivering blue light. But unlike any other place, the light was not confined to around him. The spots tugged at it, played with it, sucking it in and bending the glow, so that it swirled outwards from him like the eddies of a playful river. And he sat in the center, still and afraid to move, lest he be lost and all of his efforts in this magic be for naught.

He dedicated himself to the magic, using it to draw up memories he had tried to suppress, memories made while he was on the verge of blacking out from pain, from horror, from exhaustion. Memories of a cold before he could remember, memories through the red of his eyes as a babe on Jotunheim’s teat.

But there was no good memory that he did not have easy access to, nothing to break up the blackness with.

It left him wrecked, shaking and sick, terrified and unable to call out for help, though he knew Ohnn would be little enough help even if he could. So his day went, distressed and alone in the darkness, forcing himself to repeat the process as soon as possible. It was like doing surgery, cutting into his own flesh until the pain was too great, letting it subside, and starting anew.

It was during one of his panics, one of his convulsive shaking attacks, that a sudden sharp noise cut through his suffering.

It took a moment for him to register it being the phone. His Stark phone. he managed to pull it out of his pocket and held it cupped in his hands, staring down at the screen with the word ‘Grima’ emblazoned across it in tiny glowing pixels. He felt numb, lost, like he had just awakened in a different room than the one he’d fallen asleep in.

“You gonna answer that?” Ohnn’s non-voice asked, and Loki shook himself out of his stupor.

“May I use your eyes?” Loki asked in return, silencing the phone with a flick of his thumb, and Ohnn opened up for Loki, despite it being, by now, the middle of the night.

It was, of course, dark, and everyone in the barricaded area was asleep, curled up in small groups, the children together, Melina nearby. Tilda sat guard at the lip of the barricade’s top. The rest of them were only shapes, here and there, scattered through the room.

Save Grima, who slept beneath the tiny opening where the piano lid didn’t cover the whole window, his hair lit by the sparse ray of moonlight that came in, his face lit by the blue glow of his phone. He stared down at the screen for a long moment, then turned it off and curled around it, facing the wall. Loki could make out the tech clenched between his hands the way a child would a doll.

Ohnn closed his eyes, tossing Loki back into his mind.

“Frankly I’m surprised you get reception in there. But you should talk to him. Won’t you need him, sooner or later?”

“I think I will, but I hate that I will. In using the sceptre on him, in asking me to do so, he is asking me to do the reverse but equal of what was done him in the first place. He is only just regaining his personhood now. If I go into his mind, tinker with his memories… if I hurt him in the process…” Loki trailed off, voice cracking and glad that Ohnn could not turn his gaze inwards. “I try so hard not to be the monster I am, but I slip. And I don’t want him to suffer for it. I don’t want anyone here to suffer for my monstrosity. They all deserve so much more.”

Already weakened by his tests on himself, Loki felt the control he had over his tears beginning to crumble. As they slid down his cheeks, Ohnn’s silence seemed condemning. Disapproving. The lack of sound other than his own pitiful noises threatened to deafen him, to suffocate him.

And then a small series of texts came in.

>Not angry.  
>i’m scared.  
>Don’t leave me here. Don’t run away from me. You have power now. You’re strong. You can do the right thing.  
>I need you.

He stared down at the device. Having power didn’t make him strong. Being immortal did not promise him a long life. His doing right only ever caused harm, and once again Loki was shackled, this time by what he must do. An unsatisfying substitute to his own seidhr flowed around and in him, and he could not stand the guilt that seemed to settle over him like a blanket. When had he started to care?

Being needed did not make him good, and he had to remind himself of that fact. Nothing that he did would ultimately make him any better. These motions that he went through were only to make believe, a balm to the cracks in his skin where the evil lurked beneath, waiting to seep through.

At least here, alone in the darkness, there was none to see if they did. He used to so revel in this feeling. He just wished he could go back to that, back to when his hurts were limited to a choice few deep pangs, not this shroud of constant misery and heartache.

Echoing Grima’s position outside, Loki closed his hands around the phone, curled in on himself, and let the shakes and his sobs carry him off to sleep.  
***

It turned out that Cul had been locked in a box at the deepest part of the Marianas trench, in the Pacific Ocean back on Earth. Steve had Heimdall put them down outside of Sam’s apartment, because there was no way he was going into this with just an emotionally rocky Thor as back up, and of everyone he knew, Sam was the best at keeping a clear head while helping friends who were… not the most grounded, at the moment.

Besides, he was under the impression that once they had reached roughly the area they needed to dive at, Thor was planning on doing some sort of biblical water parting thing with some whistle or flute or something-- a gift from Odin for this specific purpose--and Steve needed to have someone there to bear witness and mutter the things he was thinking under their breath.

Sam, of course, became the ideal person to take along for the ride.

He wouldn’t even have needed the texts that Steve had sent him from outside the building, warning about the current state of Asgardian affairs. All he would have needed was one look, and he would have known something was up.  
Steve couldn’t decide if it was more important to not talk about it, or to address the awkwardness, but as usual, Sam had the answer.

“Thor!” He said, offering his hand. “Been a while, buddy. You’re not looking so hot, but we’re gonna help find him, alright?” He doesn’t force joviality into the statement, the way some might. Sam’s just stating facts, and Steve can see the relief in Thor’s face when he takes the proffered grip.

“I have missed you as well. I-- before we begin, though, I should-- Jane--” He looked extraordinarily awkward, in a way that seemed at once regretful and apologetic as well as eager.

“No, for sure, go take care of it. Don’t want you in trouble with the lady.” Sam shot Steve a glance, and Steve wondered how he knew-- just knew that Steve had been about to object. “It’s good to keep the people who care about you happy.” Sam finished, with just enough hint of warning that Steve felt a little guilty.

Thor bowed out, grateful for the understanding, and with a toss of his hammer and a brisk wind, he was gone.

With that, Sam turned to him.  
“You can afford to lose an hour or two while he tries to sort out how shitty he feels. Meanwhile, you and me have some catching up to do, and you’re gonna tell me why in the hell you and Loki sound like you’re pals now.” Sam’s words and tone had no room for argument, but instead of bristling, Steve felt his face splitting into a smile.  
He grabbed Sam around the shoulders.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He told him.

Sam completed the hug, then pulled them apart.  
“I know you’ve got your big bad Captain America duties, but you know where I live. Come on inside, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

Settled comfortably in Sam’s livingroom, Steve got to work mending hurt feelings.

“I haven’t been around much,” he started, and Sam just snorted. “Well, but look, it’s because I’ve been pulling double duty-- Captain America work and then I was under instructions to spend every non Cap minute at the NEST facility.” He spread his hands.

“So your orders were to run yourself ragged. Good folks, S.H.I.E.L.D.” Sam said, and Steve shrugged.

“They’re better than they used to be.” Steve shrugged noncommittally.  
“So NEST. What is that, exactly? I know you said that’s where Bucky ended up.”

“Nursing Establishment for Stability and Therapy. It’s a… it’s to help rehabilitate villains, basically, help them get their lives on the right track.” Steve found himself twisting his own fingers. “And while he was there, Loki… got through to Bucky, in a way no one else has been able to. Helped him come out of his shell, helped him… he got him to start talking to me.” The raw emotion in Steve’s voice would have made him self conscious if it had been exposed to anyone but Sam. He knew, though, that if anyone was ready for it, if anyone wouldn’t judge him for it, it would be him.

Sam whistled lowly.  
“And now he’s gone, is Bucky…?” He trailed off, and Steve shook his head.

“It’s Grima, first of all. Means shadow, apparently. I’m still hoping that wasn’t just a tasteless joke on Loki’s part. But… the head therapist there, she was worried they were getting too close, so I took Grima out for a day.” He paused and tried to sort the events out in his mind.

“Too close how? Did she think he was manipulating him?” Sam asked, leaning forward, suddenly alert. Steve wondered if that was something he had seen before. He nodded.

“Among other things. Problem is, it was Grima who stole the scepter… I’ve only managed to get a couple of texts out of him since Loki disappeared, but… the two of them uncovered some kind of… it’s a S.H.I.E.L.D. coverup of some sort. They’re almost certain NEST has been using HYDRA mind wiping techniques-- the same ones used on Bucky-- on a little girl. We were trying to figure out why when Grima ran off with the scepter. When Loki up and vanished, he told everyone inside NEST about Cynthia and what the doctors were doing to her, and all the residents-- the ones who know this girl-- have barricaded themselves into a room to protect her. By my count, I only have the rest of today and tomorrow to find Loki, before Fury takes things into his own hands.” Steve explained, the weight of his own responsibility sinking further on to him as the words spilled forth.

“And to your mind, Loki’s the key to the bottom of all this?” Sam asked. “Why not focus on Buc-- on Grima, if they were so close? I mean, how’d he even know where the scepter was?”

Steve shook his head miserably.  
“Right now, I have to focus on Loki. That’s what Fury assigned me to. And if I can’t get him to help set things right back at NEST, well… the problem of the barricade is not supposed to be in my hands, but I can’t just do nothing.”

Sam shook his head.  
“Alright. Ok, well, what’s your plan then?”

“Loki’s got this evil uncle, locked up in a cage at the bottom of the sea. Heimdall, the all seeing gatekeeper of Asgard, thinks we should talk to him. He says if anyone knows Loki, it’s him.” Steve braced himself, because he knew what came next was an explanation of what an appallingly bad idea that was.

But instead, Sam just nodded thoughtfully.  
“Makes sense to me.”

“Really?” He asked, thoroughly surprised.

“Yeah, I mean. We got a bad guy to chase down, you talk to someone who can think like him to figure out where he is. What about the all seeing guy, though-- I take it you asked him about where Loki’s hiding?”

“Yeah.” Steve made a face. “Magic. He had nothing for us.”

“So Loki has his magic back, then?” Steve could see Sam calculating in his mind.

“We don’t know. We have no idea at this point what he’s capable of, except that he can walk again and he’s got the scepter, which is both a magical item and a weapon. Odin seemed to think Loki would be going after the tree that grants Asgardians their long lives? I don’t know.” Steve grabbed some goldfish off of the table and popped them in his mouth, trying not to look as concerned about all of this as he was.

Judging by the look on Sam’s face, he wasn’t buying it.

“So what’s going on with Thor?” He asked, instead of pushing the conversation about Steve.

“He… things are about as not good as they can get, between him and Loki. There’s been betrayal on both sides, and a misunderstanding on Thor’s part sort of led to Loki being… tortured and exiled. He just found out about that.” Steve couldn’t think of any way to soften that-- he was still more than a little horrified that that was how things worked, where they came from.

Sam rubbed the back of his head in consternation.  
“Alright, so we have some self loathing going on all around. You know after all of this, you might consider sitting down for some group therapy. Just a thought.” his mouth tugged upwards at the corner, though, softening the suggestion.

Not a bad one, Steve thought.

Outside, the potted plant on Sam’s railing fell from a gust of wind. Steve nodded towards it.

“Think that means the big guy’s back.”

“Man, my mom sent me that plant. First one I’ve managed to keep alive for more than a month.” Sam groused, rising from his seat.

“You know she loves when they die-- it means she gets to come over, replace it, and bake for you.” Steve told him, amused.

He was glad he’d called on Sam, glad Sam had the time and was willing to do this with him. Something about him just made the terrifying seem that much less so.

Even the trip out to the middle of the ocean seemed to pass in a few short blinks. By the time they had reached their destination, determined by Thor through means that Steve could not begin to fathom, Thor had regained some of his own jubilance. And perhaps it was because of a regained sense of purpose, because Sam had helped to make him hope… it didn’t matter what had brought it about. What mattered was that it felt, for the first time in a while, like Steve was surrounded by family.

Not, of course, that Bruce and Natasha and Clint and Tony and Pepper weren’t, but he’d spent so much time at NEST, so much time with his shield up and his defenses on high alert, he’d forgotten what it meant to be around people he could trust. People he could fall back on and turn his back to without a second thought.

He was surprised to find that his feelings about Thor and his actions didn’t diminish his trust in the man. Surprisingly, he thought they were probably okay… provided, of course, that he really meant what he said, that he really intended to try and set things right with Loki. And what a change in his thinking that was from a few short years ago.

Steve watched while Thor played the instrument that Odin had passed him, causing the water to pull away from a hole which led down to the darkness of the deepest parts of the ocean.

They lowered the ropes and slid down onto it, and Steve became aware of the dark shape of whatever leviathan had been employed in protecting the entrance swimming around them in lazy circles. The slide was long, but ended at a round door set into the sand emblazoned with some kind of sea dragon, folded into a triknot. Thor pressed his hammer to the metal and they passed through, stumbling as they landed in the cavernous cell.

Water puddled around them, and Steve found himself squinting in the dim purple tinged light. The ceiling of the room was high and domed, the walls round and carved from stone, runes and probably spellwork etched into every surface. He shivered, suddenly concerned about being trapped in here with the kind of man who would require such strong precautions from even Asgard.

From the shadows, he limped forward, the light turning his bone pale hair into something spectral, something unworldly and casting shadows on his face that looked like they were as deep as the trench they’d slid down into.

“Son of Odin.” The old man said, his voice like the sound of rocks ground together with great pressure. Then his head swivelled.  
“And who are you?”

Being caught in his gaze felt like being pinned down, seeing a train heading straight for you and unable to move. It wasn’t fear, or not just fear. It was debilitating terror, something that swept through the whole of your being, and Steve wasn’t ready for it.

“My friends.” Thor spoke, and though it was a soft sound for him, in this small room with high ceilings, it echoed, until he sounded like the thunder that often followed in his wake.

Cul seemed unsurprised and unphased by the rudeness. He simply leaned and waited, looking, oddly enough, directly at Steve for answers.

“We’re-- I’m a friend of Loki’s.” He started, speaking formally and using his commanding voice.

“Are you now? Fancy that.” Cul drawled, and Steve wasn’t sure why, but he could feel the heat climbing the back of his neck. But it did the trick-- the anger helped pull him out of the fear that had been threatening to bog him down. He cleared his throat.

“He’s gone missing, and we’re trying to find him. Heimdall thought you may have some idea of where I might look.” He ignored the surprise that registered on Cul’s face and charged on ahead, skipping any niceties. He was ready to be done with this. This guy was something he didn’t like, something darker than Loki, and far more threatening.

A rumbling sound emerged from his chest, terrifying and unhealthy, and at first Steve thought he was dying, exchanging a panicked look with Sam before he realized that it was Cul laughing.  
“Have you considered checking Hel?” He asked, and Thor snarled, Sam’s reflexes the only thing preventing Cul’s face from being pulverized by the force of Mjolnir. Cul went right on talking, though. “If he isn’t there yet, he’ll surely end up there soon. All alone in the worlds, poor lost child.” He was grinning maliciously and Steve felt a shiver of fear sketch down his spine.

“Steve? I don’t think he’s gonna have anything worth listening to. Let’s get out of here.” Sam was already trying to tug Thor back towards the center of the room, directly under where they’d come in. Steve turned and began to walk away to join his friends.

“Steven Rogers.” Cul rumbled out and he stopped in his tracks, turning back to face the man, confused as to how he knew whom he was. “That is who you are is it not?”

“It is.” He responded, turning back and waiting, the effort taking all of his control.

“Loki spoke of you, last time I saw him.” He spoke slowly, like a man who had all the time in the world. And, Steve supposed, that was because he did. Steve, on the other hand, didn’t.

“When was that?” He asked, daring to hope.

“Difficult to say.” Cul responded. “Years, most likely.”

Steve made an annoyed noise in his throat and turned away again.

“He called you his opposite.” Cul told his retreating back. “He wished, for Thor’s sake, that he had been you.”  
Steve was listening, his eyes wide. He felt oddly flattered, though he knew much had changed since then, for he and Loki both.

“I’d advise you not to help my nephew, Steven Rogers. It will only end in sorrow for you.”

“We are leaving.” Thor said, his lips tight and his face clouded with a complex mixture of guilt and anger. He held his arm out and both Sam and Steve took hold of him as the young god of Thunder spun his hammer above his head and hurled the three of them forth, up out of the trench and into the air, while the water tossed beneath them, as violent as Thor’s rage.

They gripped at the ropes and hauled themselves back into the helicopter they had commissioned to fly them out. The flight back was quiet, none of them seemingly ready to shout over the sounds of the propeller.

Thor fell asleep, and Sam and Steve pulled out some cards, though neither was really at the top of their game just at the moment.

Once they were landed, though, the conversation was immediate.

“We know no more now than we did upon leaving Asgard!” Thor put voice to Steve’s own impatience with today’s adventure. Sam, however, looked thoughtful.

“I dunno… is Hell a legit place for you guys? Like us, we don’t know so much as think, but if you exist, I figure that might too.”

“Aye, Hel is the realm of the underworld on Niflheim. But we have treaties with the Mistress there-- she would not give him quarter, and would know and alert us if he travelled there in his physical form.”

“I doubt he’s dead, it’s only been a couple of days.” Steve interjected, though there was enough doubt… Cul was all about fear, wasn’t he? So was that just him putting voice to their fears? Or did he know something they didn’t?

“If he were, he would have gone straight to Eljudni, Hela’s hall, and she being polite or gloating-- it is difficult to tell-- would have sent her condolences to my family. He is not dead.” Thor seemed certain enough of that to put Steve’s fears to rest, and he nodded.

“Here’s my question, then: You have this all seeing gatekeeper who sent you there-- you think he had a reason? Is there something we missed?” He could tell Sam was no more eager to go back than he was. It was so hard to think around Cul, like all of his thoughts had just become one loud shriek.

“When my brother imprisoned my father with Cul, during the time he was ruling Asgard in his guise, he thought he was granting Cul the opportunity to avenge himself on his brother. He expected that as soon as he left them there, Odin should be as good as dead. There is a parallel, you see. Loki was called many unkind things as we grew, but the fact that his coloration next to mine was reminiscent of Cul’s to my father’s…” Thor let the sentence trail outwards.

“So he figured because Cul was like him, and he wanted to kill you…” Sam asked, obviously confused by the relationships being handled here.

“It turned out the opposite. He has had opportunities, has tried to kill me. When I brought Odin back, he knew that it was true-- they were alike. Neither of them could ever truly kill the brothers that they hated, the brothers whom they also love. Loved.” He corrected, the guilt clearly manifesting again.

“Huh.” Sam looked unconvinced, and Steve tried to imagine what that must be like from Loki’s side, realizing that he couldn’t actually hurt the person he’d been trying to hurt, realizing he didn’t actually want to. And then being tossed out, then tortured, then thinking he was saved by the same person… only to be tortured further. It was a grim picture, and a wonder that Loki was as put together as he was now, all things considered.  
“The worst of it, however, is Cul’s parting blow, about how Loki wished to be you.” Thor said, Looking his way. “Each time he attempted to do good, only ill came of it, for he is the fool of fate. Or so he is wont to say. Even as children, the most noble of his intentions tended to backfire.” He shook his head. “I believe that is why he ceased attempting to be noble.”

“Are you saying you think it’s for the best that he isn’t around NEST anymore? I mean-- sure they’re all barricaded in, but in his place I would have done the same. At least the people who care about that little girl are keeping her safe until.. well, until we can figure this out.” Steve was more than a little indignant. Until he really knew what was going on, what Loki was up to and why he’d vanished…

“Hold up. Steve: Did you think maybe we should ask the guy who sees everything what he knows about this mystery girl child? Like, not saying I get him, but if I was Loki, maybe I’d be worried about trying to solve that puzzle.” Sam was exactly the voice of reason Steve needed, and he couldn’t decide between wanting to smack himself on the head for not having thought of it, and hugging him. His jovial response was swept aside, though, when Thor spoke.

“My brother has just regained his freedom. You think he would spend time chasing down information to help a mortal, rather than saving his own hide?” Thor looked skeptical, and Sam raised his hands defensively, but Steve could feel his eyes narrowing into a challenging glare.

“Yeah.” he said, maybe a little louder than necessary. “Yeah, actually, I do. And I think Sam’s right. I think we need to speak with Heimdall.”

Almost before the words were out of his mouth, Steve felt the hook in the back of his sinuses that lasted only a split second before they were enveloped in light.

From beside him, there was the rush of the Bifrost on one side and the sound of Sam on the other, experiencing it for the first time.

They traveled through the cosmos to the soundtrack of an unprepared soldier yelling out,  
“What the heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeellllllllllllllll--”  
***

He shuddered, standing up and stretching as best as he was able.  
“Jonathan?” He asked, waiting to see if the man was awake

“Loki.” He acknowledged.

“I’m as ready as I can be, I think.” It had only been a few days, and quick study though he may be, he was not entirely certain of his grasp. Familiarized was perhaps the best he could call himself, and he could not improve without leaving this isolated space.

“All right. Let me warn the others. Listen in.” Spot opened his eyes and ears to Loki, and he looked out.

The children were playing a game of cards that involved them laying down cards only to slap their hands quickly atop the stack. Melina and Curtis were curled together, reading a book that he held while she turned the pages. Loki made a mental note about that-- he’d thought them more on the lines of Barton and Romanoff, friends, partners, and occasionally punching bags. But that was… unexpectedly sweet. For them.

The rest of the adults were gathered under the window, where Grima and Tilda were mapping out the floorplans of NEST, using the tip of Marsha’s finger to burn the lines into a plank of wood that might once have been a bookshelf.

“Ahem.” Spot cleared his throat and stood. “So I’ve been… sort of quiet. Uh. Wow.” He stumbled as everyone’s attention turned toward him, and he raised his hands at the fierce looks leveled in his direction.  
“Look I’m on your side. Everyone wanted to know where Loki went, right, so I figured I’d just--” Grima had already taken his feet, and Loki rolled his eyes and pulled his consciousness away from Ohnn’s, pushing the sceptre through ahead of himself as he stepped out.

“Loki.” The Soldier’s voice was back, dead and cold and distant, and the resultant pain in Loki’s chest felt near-crippling after as long as he had spent, running himself through his tortures again and again.

Grima must have seen it on his face, because he reached out before stopping himself. Holding back. Waiting. Loki saw that he’d reached forward with the metal hand, and he wondered what that meant-- wondered if he was a threat now, or if he had given up so soon after texting him.

“I’ve been experimenting. Learning how to use the sceptre. I’m… I think I’m ready to try on someone else, now.” It was Loki’s turn to hesitate, turning tired eyes, stinging from the light, upwards, to meet Grima’s unflinching gaze. He pushed as much apology onto his face as possible. “If you’ll let me. If you-- if you trust me, to.”

Grima stepped forward, his face blank in a way that Loki found incredibly disconcerting.

“You ran away from me.” He said, and Loki swallowed, unable to look away.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” He tried to tell him, but almost before the words were out of his mouth, Grima had all but barked at him.

“You did.”

There was a long silence between them, and Loki could see from the corner of his eyes the way the others shifted uncomfortably, trying to judge whether or not there would be a fight, if they should move away, take shelter, intervene-- or if their actions would cause it to boil over.

“I’m sorry.” Loki said softly. “I have done what I can, I have learned as much as I could, but I cannot go any further alone. You asked me to use you to test whether the sceptre would work, before. Are you willing now? If I promised--” He licked his lips, nervous and aware of the gravity of the promise he made, what it would mean for himself if he followed through. “If I promise to return to you the sceptre after it has served its purpose-- I have no power without it. You know this. If I give you the power back, will you believe that it has only been my intent to do what is right?”

Cynthia stepped up beside Grima, her hand on his arm, and Loki was surprised at her daring.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want. This is about me, right? So do the thing on me.” She looked at Loki, and he looked around at the rest of them. Chris had taken half a step forward, and Marsha was keeping a hand on her shoulder, holding him back.

“What did they do to her?” He demanded, and Loki was surprised to see him not trying to break free of Marsha’s hold.

“Yeah. We took you at your word about NEST being a threat to the children, and because Cynthia backed you up, we took a leap of faith. And all that’s brought us is this: tiny room, no privacy, save the tiny bathroom over there, little claustrophobic, and more trouble for us when we do come out. But I think it’s time we get to know exactly what we’re dealing with, here. Tell us what they did that justifies this.” Tilda was challenging him, and he couldn’t afford to let her intimidate him, though her words and eyes were sharp.

He looked back at Cynthia, then over at Grima. No one seemed ready to say anything, and he knew he had to be the one to explain. And he had to do it plainly. No fancy words. No lies. He had to make them believe all of this was worth it, or things could turn very messy, very quickly.

“Grima… James was once someone very different, and then evil men found a way to erase that, and not in just the… the breaking you down, turning you into a warrior way. TThey erased what he knew, everything he was, to turn him into a weapon. When he came here--” Loki bit that off, unwilling to finish the thought in that way. He tried to find a better way of phrasing it, but Grima jumped in.

“They took what they knew about me and applied it to her. They took away whatever she used to know, whoever she used to be.” He looked down at Cynthia and gently wrapped an arm around her small shoulders, pulling her closer against his side.

“What… How can they do that? What gives them the right?” Chris demanded, obviously infuriated, and Loki could hardly blame him. Across the room, Curtis was holding Melina’s hand, and Loki did not miss the way she’d gone pale.

“Nothing. No one. Which is why we have to fight back against it.” He felt weary, but he knew his words had to be strong enough to convey what he couldn’t with his energy. That he had to make these people, who had no reason to trust him, believe in what he was saying.

He looked out across the faces of this little group, suddenly overwhelmed with a sort of fondness for all of them. Even Maynard.

“We have, historically, almost to a one of us, been the villains of our stories, but not one of you is a bad person, so far as I can tell. Greed is forgivable, we work for ourselves, we must care for ourselves when others don’t, or won’t, or can’t.” He deliberately met the eyes of each of them in turn, employing all that he had learned from his days thinking he might rule. This was not the army he’d thought he’d lead, not the battle he would have chosen for himself. He could only imagine what Odin-- what Thor would think of this. What Rogers did. It struck him with a small wave of nausea, and he swallowed. He didn’t think anyone would notice. He cleared his throat.

“In this, we are in the right. Those meant to help us, to help Cynthia, have wronged her in a way that goes beyond invasive, it is malicious, it is vicious. It is disgusting. And I can undo what they’ve done, I think. But you have to believe me when I say that is all I am doing, all I will try to do. I wouldn’t risk hurting Grima, who is my... friend.” The word still felt strange to him, particularly so fast on the heels of reliving all that he had been through, all of the times he’d been assured that no one was coming for him, that no one cared enough to. That he was alone. That he always would be.  
Not anymore.  
“And I wouldn’t hurt a child.” He said, pushing every ounce of sincerity within him into the words. “I may be a monster, may have made monstrous decisions, but you have to be something much, much worse to do that.”

“The decision, ultimately, is up to Grima… and Cynthia. It seems to me--” Everyone had turned to look at Tiboldt, and he seemed to temporarily lose his bluster. He cleared his throat, then pressed on, his voice losing some of its theatricality for the first time since Loki had known the man, causing him to seem all the more sincere for it, all the more respectable. “Seems to me that there have been too many decisions made on their behalf as it is.”

Loki shivered and Cynthia looked up at Grima. But he was staring resolutely at Loki.

“We are friends. And I trust you. Help me, Loki. If you can find Bucky in me, you can find whoever she’s supposed to be, too.”  
Though the movement was likely unintentional, Loki could not help but notice how, when Grima stepped forward, he pushed Cynthia behind him, effectively placing himself between her and Loki.

Loki stepped in, far closer than needed, and wrapped his hand around the back of Grima’s neck.

They were close enough to kiss, close enough that there was no way that Grima would not meet his eyes.

“Are you certain?” He asked one final time, the sceptre raised and ready, every person behind the constructed wall looking on, and Loki ignoring all of it.

“I’m with you.” Grima told him firmly, leaning in so that their foreheads touched.  
Loki took a deep breath, pressed the sceptre to his chest, and let himself sink into Grima, into his consciousness, and then deeper, into the dark recesses of his mind.

There was so much pain and panic, buffered by chilling periods of empty numbness, but throughout it all there echoed a single vibrant thread of something stronger, something fuller. He followed it like a yarn trail through the fog that battered him. He closed his eyes to the memories that he had no right to-- and the ones he would never forget, if he let himself see them, and pressed onward, inward.

The fog was more dense here. Progress became slower, more difficult, and Loki had to open his eyes when he couldn’t keep going- but there was nothing to see. The thread he had been following was tangled in itself, forming a cocoon, which he was struggling now to get out of.

He grew frustrated, but he knew he couldn’t cut it. Knew, somehow, that this thread was part of Bucky, not something put there by SHIELD or Hydra or the Red Room, or anyone else.

He Knew that if he cut it, it would fall away forever. And so he grasped it gently and began untangling it. It slid over itself, and when one moved so did it all, giving this wall of threads the appearance of a pit of snakes, coiling and uncoiling, stretching and rolling.

He wasn’t sure how long he was at it. Time slipped the way the threads did, and a moment became an hour, became an eon.

Finally, the threads loosened like the laces on a shirt and fell away, sinking to the floor.

Unsure what to do and only certain that he could not step on them, Loki began ravelling the miles of it together, and he found that when organized, it coiled around itself, turning from a strand into a rope, thickening until it was as big around as his wrist, and stretching out into the darkness ahead.

With nary a backward glance, he followed it to where a single bright light shone down from above on a crooked hole in the blackness of the floor.

As he approached, he heard a wavering voice, thin and broken and rough, but familiar.  
He looked down and saw Grima-- Bucky-- huddled at the bottom of the pit, dirty and desperate and hurt looking, but whole.  
‘Three. Two. Five. Five. Seven. Zero. Three. Eight. Three. Two. Five. Five. Seven--’ it was a chant, held in rhythm to his rocking, and Loki felt a chill wrack through him.

Without thinking, he lowered the rope.

“Bucky? James Barnes?” He asked, his voice too loud against the haunting background of the other man’s chant. “My name is Loki. I’m a friend of-- I’m a friend of Steve Rogers. And I’m here to bring you back to him.”

Beneath him, Bucky looked up.

“I know you.” He said, and Loki felt dread welling in his gut. But Bucky spoke again. “You saved me from the nightmares. Loki.” He stood, using the walls to support legs that wobbled. “I trust you.” He said, with the same gravity as if he were pledging his life.

“Then come with me,” Loki begged, swinging the rope back and forth. Bucky took hold, hesitantly at first, and then firmly.  
Together, they pulled him up, pulled him towards the light. And when he reached the top, and Loki put his hand out to lift him the last few feet, their hands touched. Light flared between them, and Loki was knocked to the floor.

When he opened his eyes, he was inside the barricaded room of NEST again, with everyone looking on. Cynthia knelt beside him, and Grima…  
Grima wasn’t there any more.

The way he stood, the way he held his face, the way he looked around in wonder and understanding… that wasn’t Grima.

“Barnes?” Loki asked, his voice rougher here than it had been in the man’s mind.

“I think you have your proof.” He said. “I remember… I remember all of it. I remember you, and the conditioning, the shocks, the missions, the fall, Steve… I remember… so much.” He sounded overwhelmed by it, and Loki felt glad enough that he surged to his feet and let out a relieved whoop, catching Bucky up in a hug.

“It worked!” he said, elated beyond the ability to find better words. “It worked, you’re-- you’re back. I can’t wait for Steve to see--” He cut himself off, suddenly realizing that it was unlikely that Steve would be pleased with him.

The stolen sceptre. The trouble at NEST. The fact that he had been inside Bucky’s head-- would they ever be able to believe that he was not compromised again?  
Would he have the same connection with him that he had had to Barton?

There was so much they were not yet sure of. So much they couldn’t count on. And Bucky had stiffened in his grasp.

Carefully, Loki released him and stepped back, afraid he’d ruined something after all, crossed some lines. Perhaps destroyed the friendship they had had.

“Is it… okay? Is it better?” He asked softly.

Barnes smiled.  
“It’s me. It’s bad… but it’s me, it’s mine, I have it back now. It’s all I’ve wanted for so long now, I didn’t even remember what it was to want.”  
Loki nodded, though he didn’t fully understand.

Beside him, Cynthia tugged at his sleeve. He looked down at her, and she handed him the sceptre.  
“Is it my turn now?” She asked, and Loki looked around at the others who were watching. Her decision, he knew, but she was young, and the entire reason any of them were here now was to protect her. If any spoke up, if there were suspicions… He was tired, and it was invasive-- could have been, for all they knew, a complete violation. Hell, he and Grima could have cooked up the whole plan. And even if they believed that Bucky was Bucky, now, they didn’t know if there were any drawbacks yet.  
Chris broke free of Marsha’s hold and came forward, putting his hand on Cynthia’s shoulder.

“Please, Loki? I… Cynthia is my friend. She deserves to know. They have no right to keep her from herself.”

Loki sighed, swallowing the fear, the uncertainty that had risen into his throat and turned breathing difficult.  
“Give me a few minutes to recover, and then yes. It will be your turn.”

***

Heimdall’s words shook him, set his teeth on edge. They had been so close, Steve had been in the same room with her, had said hello, he’d looked at pictures trying to figure all of this out-- how had he now known, how did he not guess?

His silent upset was interrupted as Heimdall spoke again, the words sudden.

“Thor-- Captain-- Sam: Loki has returned. He is in the NEST now, with her. He is using the sceptre on your friend.”  
Cold fear blossomed in every inch of Steve’s body, and he shuddered.

“How precise is the Bifrost? Can you put us down outside? We can’t let him-- we have to get there right away.”  
Steve’s hands were shaking where they were clenched in front of him.

“The Bifrost will let you out as near to there as I safely can. No more, no less.” Though Heimdall seemed unruffled, even Steve could hear the increase in the speed of his speech.

“Thank you, Good Heimdall.” Thor said, ushering his friends into place. Sam and Steve braced themselves, and the wrenching gut churning colors and movement came again, this time with the added stress of their time constraint and imminent upheaval if they didn’t get there in time.

The moment they land, Steve puts a call into Fury while running for NEST like a mad man, uncaring if he pants into the receiver on the way.

“Loki’s back, he’s at NEST. Your cover up is about to be blown-- he’s using the sceptre on Bucky. I think the girl is next.”

Fury swore. “How far out are you?”

“I’m going around the back now, we’re gonna try and gain access through the window hole Sharon was using.”

The line went dead with no further comment, and all Steve could do was hope that after everything, Fury wasn’t about to go in, guns blazing. He’d just gambled four of his best friends’ lives on that fact, plus the rest of the thus-far non violent inhabitants of the barricaded room..

“Sam I need you to go in through the front, make sure no one is trying to gain access that way. Thor, you should stay outside. I don’t know if seeing you will set Loki off, after all that’s happened, but I might need you to back me up, depending on what Loki-- depending.” He didn’t want to finish that sentence, didn’t want to be like everyone else, expecting only the worst of him.

He reached the dividing point and didn’t check to see if he was being obeyed. He knew, with this team, he didn’t have to worry about it.  
He just hurtled full speed directly at the window and swung the shield up to hit it as hard as he could, the impact doubling or more with the force of the vibranium.

The piano lid crashed to the floor just in time for him to see Loki being thrown backwards, the force of the young girl’s shove completely disproportionate to her appearance.

She looked incredibly fierce, her young face contorted by the grimace she wore. She stooped and picked up the sceptre, and that simple movement made everyone snap out of their stunned stupors.

“What happened? What did he do to you?” The first words out of Tilda’s mouth made Steve cringe.

“Cynthia..” Chris stepped forward, his hands raised to placate, clearly expecting this to be something he had dealt with before.  
“It’s Sin now.” She told him. “It’s always been Sin.” She pulled her arm back and sprung forward, the intent clearly to run the teen boy through with the spear-- the way Loki had Coulson, a lifetime ago.

Steve would have gotten there too late. Anyone else would have.  
Except Loki.

She launched herself forward, and the blade of it slid into his stomach, where Chris’s chest would have been, half a second prior.

Steve felt like time got too fast and too slow all at once.

Melina kicked the sceptre and sent it flying out of Sin’s hands, Loki fell to the ground. Marsha grabbed Chris and pulled him back, and Sharon slunk out the hole that had been the window. The others surged into action, some forward and some away from the fight.

Sin scrambled, managed to retrieve the sceptre, and vaulted out of the only exit open to her.

Steve registered the dangers-- an entire room full of super powered people, upset and unsure whose side they should be on. An evil that he hadn’t thought of in a year or more, escaping with a magical item of unknown power. Loki--

He put the shield over Loki, covering as much of his head and torso as possible, and started shouting orders.

“Grab Sin, get the sceptre, SAM, THOR, DON’T LET SIN ESCAPE.”

But all of that was secondary, his mind and body doing what the serum told it that it needed to.  
He turned back from gesturing at everyone to find Grima curling his metal arm under Loki’s head and lifting him up.

“Grima, can you carry him out? We need to get him to a doctor, we have to stitch him up.” Steve was speaking fast, unsure how close he was to babbling and not particularly caring.

“Yeah I have him, you get the girl, punk.”

“Probably the first time you’ve said that to me,” Steve fired back, falling instantly into old patterns and turning his back to him before he did a double take. “Bucky?”

Bucky rolled his eyes.  
“GO!”

Steve wasn’t sure what that left Loki with-- his friend, Steve’s friend, some conglomeration… it didn’t matter, he realized. He trusted Bucky in whatever mind state.

He launched himself through the window as well, and saw Sin pretting the sceptre to Thor’s chest, not to pierce the armor, but the way Loki had done to bind people to him. Steve’s blood went cold.

“NO.” The word came out of him as he went running, but his shout seemed to have been enough. Sharon, from her perch on the room, shrieked and dove for Sin, who had to turn to throw her off. This gave enough time for Thor to regain himself-- but he did not know who was who, and grabbed Sharon-- the one he had seen attacking someone else-- by mistake.

Sin scampered off, and Steve shouted out a “Not her, get the sceptre!” as he ran past his friend, but by the time he rounded the building, Sin was nowhere in sight.  
He headed to the front, putting a call in to Fury.

“I lost visual, does anyone have eyes on Sin?” He asked. His heart was thudding against his ribs.

“Sin, huh? Take it Loki got to her then. No, we have no eyes on her that I know of. Hill, get me a confirmation on that with all agents.” In the background, Steve heard Maria reply in the affirmative.

“There’s something else.” Steve said. “I need medical on scene fast as you can get it and faster. Loki--” he cut himself off, seeing Bucky coming up behind him, Loki in his arms… and an unhealthy pool of red all down his front. “It’s not good. I have to get pressure on that, get them here yesterday.” Steve ended the transmission, unwilling to argue about their using S.H.I.E.L.D. resources on a bad guy.

Loki wasn’t, as far as he could tell, all that bad. Not actively, not…  
He groaned and moved to Bucky’s side.  
“Can I have your shirt?” He asked, unwilling to put Loki, wound and all, on the grass.

Before Bucky could take it off, Thor was there, spreading his cape out. Steve thanked him tersely.

“Spread him out, I need… yeah.” Bucky was already working, and Loki was staring, blinking, his lips moving soundlessly.

Steve got his hands on Loki’s shirt, tearing it free.

It didn’t look good, not actively spurting, but more of a long slow leak. Loki’s hand fell on his elbow, and he leaned in, trying to figure out what he was saying, hoping he had a trick left, something he could use to save himself.

“--en I try to help. Ruin. Things.”

Steve’s stomach twisted.  
“No, no, Loki, you were doing what was right, you were--” He broke his words off, as he suddenly realized there was a breeze that hadn’t been there.  
Bucky wasn’t moving, nor was Thor. All around them, everything was still. Everything. The grass didn’t shift. There were no sounds, save the wind, not even the sounds of animals, insects… nothing.  
It was a warm day out, but Steve got a chill, started shivering, saw his breath. And then he saw, striding across the lawn, Her footsteps silent and Her dress and robe not disturbing a single thing, a woman. Beautiful and pale… but Her eyes.

They were pure white.

And all of a sudden, Loki’s words about how Thanos had tortured him by showing him every version of his fate, so that She would come, returned to Steve. And suddenly, he knew exactly who the woman was.

“Mother.” Loki breathed out, and Steve looked down to see his eyes fixed on her as well.

“No, Loki, shh, look at me, don’t look at her. You know She’s not-- Frigga is dead, Loki, and you can’t--” Tears were running down his face now, dripping on Loki’s, and he was using his hands to block Loki’s gaze, as if making him not able to see Her would make Her go away.

But this wasn’t a boogey man, wasn’t some nightmare. This was Death. And She came for everyone. Whether they saw Her or not.

***

Everything rushed, pulsed and faded and moved at odds with one another. He was dizzy, couldn’t tell where he was at any given time. Lifted, carried, flying? Laid out. Thor was there-- he must be dreaming.

And Rogers, dear, kind Captain Rogers, who did not believe he deserved to be left to his fate. He put a hand on his arm, trying to get him to stop-- let him bleed out before he caused any more damage to anyone else around him.

He spoke, trying to explain, and Rogers told him no.

But midsentence, the Captain broke off, and Loki lolled his head to see why-- and there She was. Walking through the field as calmly and clearly as any of the rest of the summer day around Her.

“Mother.” He said.

The Captain pushed his face away, shielded his eyes. Reminded him that Frigga was dead.

Then I am close to it myself. He thought with some satisfaction.

He fought back, knowing who the woman was, wanting to see Her just the same. He didn’t understand. Why did Rogers think he could fight this?

Rogers seemed to know who She was as well, and he stood hastily, placing himself between Her and Loki.

She looked over Rogers’ shoulder, and Loki knew without hearing-- for there were no words, either spoken or within his mind, he merely knew…

“Ssss--” He hissed, unable to force the words between lips that felt too thick, filled with blood that seemed to pump too cold, too slow.  
He fought back, remembering the last time he couldn’t speak, remembering the horror of the laces through his lips, the way Rogers had broken through them. She nodded to him, and suddenly it came easier-- not easily, but it was possible now to speak.  
“Steven.” He croaked, and the Captain spun, obviously surprised. “She… does not. Enjoy Her fate being dictated. By any. Including… titans. She has given… five minutes.” He closed his eyes, unable to keep them open longer.

He heard Rogers move again, this time to face Her.  
“Five minutes? What is that going to do? Look at him, look at everything he’s gone through-- look what he was trying to do! You don’t like fate? Help him fight it. Don’t--” Rogers stopped suddenly, and Loki wrestled his eyes open, afraid She had taken offense and done something, harmed him somehow.

But She was gone. Rogers returned to his side, looking horrified, but resigned.

“I really thought She was going to help.” The Captain said, obviously already blaming himself. Loki took hold of his hand, words coming quieter, without her help.  
“She has.” it was barely a breath, and then the world sprung back into action around them.

Thor approached, dropping to his knees beside him, and Bucky followed suit. Loki looked around, surprised a little. Here he was, surrounded by all but one of the people he had loved most in all the worlds who yet lived. He felt a tear sliding across his cheek. It was humbling, the greatness that surrounded him. And how few the number.

“Brother, please-- I must apologize. But I will not have the chance if you do not first accept this. I was wrong, Odin was wrong.” Thor spoke lowly and faster than Loki was used to hearing him, and he produced from a pouch at his side...an apple. A golden apple. One of Idunn’s.

Immortality, enough life to survive this. For him. But what had he to live for? He did not deserve…

“Frigga.” Loki said, his voice rough. He saw Rogers flinch, but felt his hand tighten around his own. Strengthened, knowing it was something he had to do, Loki pushed on. His words came slowly, the effort great and his reserves failing him. “I told… Kursed. Where to go. She is dead because…” He had to let it trail off, his tears damning enough and the words making his weak heart try to fight, the guilt as heavy on his chest as if Thor had set Mjolnir there.

Thor reached out and wrapped Loki’s fingers around the apple just the same.

“She is dead because of things outside of our control, yours or mine. The Kursed would have found her just the same, for Jane was with her, and the Aether called to them. Eat the apple, Loki, take the life I offer you, and allow me not to fail you again.” Thor was pleading, and Loki could see Rogers and Bucky looking on, obviously confused.

Loki laughed, the sound a dry huff.

All they saw was two men, brothers and enemies, one dying, arguing about fruit.

In his state, that was hysterically funny. He could not stop laughing, soundlessly, but the motion was enough. Thor lifted Loki’s hand and pressed it to his lips, and as he laughed, his teeth closed on the fruit, the skin breaking and the juice flowing over his lips into his mouth. His eyes slid closed and the single bite of apple sat in his mouth as he felt his feeble grip on life fade.

His world went black, and Loki knew that he was done. Strangely, he was not afraid. Not any more. This was a much more peaceful end than he had pictured for himself. Nicer.

And then his eyes opened.


	2. Two

They were gathered around Steve’s bed, where he had settled Loki once the stitches had been put in place, and the moment the doctors-- not S.H.I.E.L.D., not Fury, only those concerned with Loki’s well being-- had decided it would be safe to move him.

Thor had sworn them to secrecy, and his pouch now held the core of the apple, the rest of which he had cut up small and all but forced into Loki while they waited for the S.H.I.E.L.D. Medical team to arrive.

Loki himself slept on, and Steve had chucked all three of their phones-- his, Bucky’s, and Loki’s-- into the elevator shaft at the hospital before they left.

S.H.I.E.L.D. would be here eventually, but they would deal with that when it came time to.

None of them was ready yet to leave the side of this man, this once-villain. Which, considering how far he had come, both in healing and in his actions, was hardly surprising. His growth, just since falling to Earth, since being thrown here, was nothing short of amazing.

And Steve wasn’t about to let some asshole agency who thought that brainwashing a child with Nazi technology was okay take possession of either of his friends, not Loki or Bucky.

They were speaking quietly now, Loki’s brother and Steve’s, trading stories of the man who they had saved, and who had saved them. There were sounds from Steve’s kitchen where Sam was apparently finding his cookware unimpressive and possibly unusable. The sound was relaxing, because it lent normalcy to this day, which had been anything but.

Steve himself was silent, his eyes on Loki’s face, though not really focusing there. He was… conflicted. There had been something in Steve that had been desperate not to lose Loki, something that had been too terrified of the prospect to be able to see straight. Something that had nothing to do with pity for him and the life he’d led or the injuries he’d sustained.

And hearing his name-- his first name, not Rogers or Captain coming from that mouth, even on the verge of death… it gave him the same feeling he’d had in his chest when he was talking to Peggy and the plane was tanking. Like he was losing something important. And how had Loki become that, when just a day ago, Steve was trying not to acknowledge how much he didn’t trust him?

He was so focused on that, on what that meant and the terror that formed in his gut at the dawning understanding of it, that it took him a few moments to realize that Loki’s eyes had opened, that he was looking straight into Steve’s face and saying nothing.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and he heard Thor and Bucky’s voices stop around him, but his sight was only for Loki.

“I ruined everything, didn’t I?” He asked, rather than answering, his eyes slipping closed again. “I tried to do good, and I unleashed evil. Fate’s favorite joke.” A tear rolled out from under his lashes, the salt only adding to the bitterness of his words.

“Loki…” Thor’s voice was a rumble from beside him, and Loki jumped, obviously having been too far out of it to register his presence properly.

“Thor?” Loki asked, scared sounding. “I thought I’d imagined…”

Thor looked pained.

“I am here. I’ve restored your years with one of the fruits of Idunn. I was wrong. Father was wrong, I… cannot apologize enough. I am sorry, Loki. We took you for a monster, and--” Thor faltered, and Loki shook his head.

“I am a monster.” Loki spoke lowly but with an intensity that almost made Steve step backwards. “I-- I killed Frigga, I unleashed Sin, I--”

“Loki.” Steve interrupted, unable to listen to that any more. “Stop that. We know what you’ve done, and we’re telling you, you are not a monster. And remember, you don’t like making a liar out of others.” He quoted the words back to him from so long ago, then glanced up to meet Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky who was staring intently at him.

Steve felt himself flushing under the scrutiny, though he didn’t know why. Finally, Bucky looked down at Loki, though he didn’t speak

“Your actions have not been those of a monster. Why did you not go to Idunn, steal an apple under a guise? Why did you not carry your sceptre with you and put Odin under your thrall, order him to restore to you all that you had lost? You could have. If I can think of it, I know you did. So why?” Thor pressed.

“Because I don’t want to be the monster I am!” Loki spoke loudly enough that Sam came to the door, spatula in one hand and a semi automatic pistol in the other.

“I thought we were being invaded from all the noise. What’s going on in here?”

Steve thought quickly and made a choice.

He stood.

“Bucky and I are going to help you in the kitchen. I think Thor and Loki need to talk.” Steve fixed them both with his stare, in turn.

“Loki you need to stay in bed, and Thor… Don’t rile him up too much, okay? If either of you need backup, give a call. We’ll come running.”

Steve lifted a brow at Bucky, who hadn’t budged yet, and willed him to rise, to follow. Eventually, haltingly, he did.

Once out of the room, Bucky sat himself down at the kitchen table.

“This is fucked and you know it.” He said without preamble, some of the bluntness and darkness of the Winter Soldier still hovering at the edges of his friend’s face. “You know what they did to him. Hell, you saw him much worse than I did. Why would you leave him alone in there?” His jaw clenched, as did his hand, and Steve watched both, not quite looking Bucky in the eye.

“It’s up to Loki whether he gives Thor a second chance. But it’s up to us to give him that choice. And… you didn’t see Thor when I explained to him… they thought Loki betrayed them. They didn’t realize that they were kicking him when he was already in the gutter. They thought they were knocking him off his perch. One that he had gained by selling them to their enemy.”

“So that makes it right? Go on, tell me next how NEST messing with Sin’s mind was a good idea.” Bucky was challenging him outright now. It would have made Steve’s heart glad, if he wasn’t so muddled up by the right and wrongs of all of this.

“No one deserves that.” Sam said quietly. “But it might help us now. Think about it. You know Sin, you know her story, hell, the whole world does. Her daddy was the Red Skull, the nightmare you took down, and he raised her on a daily dose of what Thor gave Loki that one time. And then he got tired of waiting, took his itty bitty baby daughter and turned her into his grown up daughter. Not only did she not get a childhood, she was a tiny child inside of a killing machine, who all of a sudden had some kind of fucked up sadistic sex appeal to assholes like Rumlow.” Sam shook his head. “I’m not saying that they were right, but if they could have found some other way to undo all that, to take that from her and let her grow up with people… You have all of your memories, right?” He asked Bucky. “From Bucky and from the Soldier and from Grima?”

Bucky grunted a little and it seemed that was meant to be an affirmative.

“So no matter what, now she’s got memories of all those people being kind to her, being sweet. Being humans, real people that she had real feelings for, before the part of her mind that had feeling scooped out of it came back. Maybe some of that may have managed to get held over. Maybe she’s not as much of a bad guy now, either.” Sam pointed out.

“I am curious about how they made her young again, though. That sort of tech-- I thought that was beyond anything we had. Always more secrets.” Steve wasn’t happy with Fury, wasn’t pleased with Rivera, or anyone involved in this. It was too shady, too questionable.

“I’m not the guy to ask about that. Here, have some lemonade. You look like you could use it. Well, you look like you could use something stronger, but I know you can’t get drunk, it’s not noon yet, and I’m not wasting good whiskey on your impossible metabolisms.” Sam put a pitcher and two cups down between the soldiers at his table.

Steve gave his friend a lopsided grin. “Thanks, Sam.” He said softly.

“I’m glad you aren’t alone anymore.” Bucky said after a minute. He looked up at Sam. “Thanks for taking care of this knucklehead for me. I owe you one.”

“Have you seen him? He takes pretty good care of himself these days. Saved my ass more than once.” Sam lifted his shoulder.

“Yeah, but he’s not exactly one for knowing when to quit. He needs guys like you around, talk some sense into him. I’m real glad you were here.”

Steve reached across the table and held onto Bucky’s shoulder.

“It’s good to have you back.” He said softly.

Bucky looked down at the hand, then up at him, and Steve was afraid he had crossed some kind of line. But Bucky just grabbed the hand on his shoulder and said, “Me too.”

The moment was broken by Sam putting a heaping plate of scrambled eggs on the table-- Steve couldn’t guess how many dozen that was, but the number was not small.

“Do you want to go tell the alien gods they can come eat, or should I?” He asked, arching a brow and smiling with his eyes.

Steve shook his head.

“You guys get started, I’ll grab them.”

“If I get started it’ll be gone before you get back, punk. Better hurry!” Bucky called after him, and the grin that overtook his face nearly hurt. How many times had he heard that, and how many times had he come to the table to find the food untouched, or worse, already portioned out, and the larger half on Steve’s own plate. It was hard to believe, but this really was Bucky. Worse for the years and experience, but him just the same.

His smile fell away though, as he came to the doorway of his bedroom where Loki was sitting up, his legs hanging over the side of the bed, and Thor was at his side, an arm draped across his shoulders. Loki looked wary, uncomfortable, but he wasn’t moving to end the contact or get away.

Steve didn’t know what had been said, but it seemed whatever it was, it had at least started them down the path to being okay.

He didn’t know how. He had a feeling it would be a long time before he forgot the look in Loki’s eyes the first time it had rained while he was on earth, when his lips had still been stitched shut, and he expected Thor to show up at any time to finish him off. And some part of him, the part that wasn’t just about fighting bullies… the part that wanted them to be sure never to bully anyone else ever again, wished Thor could have seen that look too, could have been there, could be haunted now by the pain he’d caused and the damage he’d inflicted.

But then, he was stuck with the images of himself causing them in the first place. Hopefully that would be enough.

He knocked on his own bedroom door, feeling oddly out of place.

“Sam made breakfast, if you guys are hungry. Can you-- Loki can you eat?” He realized that he had no idea after the latest bout of healing that the sceptre had allowed, whether Loki could have solid foods again, along with his walking. He didn’t know what it had done-- did he have his power back?

And the apple, clearly it had brought him back from the brink. What else did it do?

The tactician in him wanted to ask questions, but he knew now wasn’t the time.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Loki asked, and Steve had to hide the near-wince he had as a reaction to the strain in his voice.

Steve hung back, worriedly watching as Thor helped Loki to his feet, waiting to see if he would need to jump in, to help Loki balance, but it turned out to be unnecessary.

Loki could keep his feet perfectly well, his legs in perfect working order again as if nothing had happened.

That was a relief, but not as much of one as watching him push forkful after forkful of egg into his mouth. Steve found himself watching the way Thor watched him, how Bucky watched him, and Sam was the only person who seemed able to keep himself from staring.

“So I suppose we should talk about what are plans are from here on out, huh?” It was Sam who finally broached the subject, and while Steve would have warned against spoiling Loki and Bucky’s respective appetites, after several days of poor enough eating on both their sides, it was Bucky who spoke up.

“I’m not going back to NEST.” He said bluntly, and Steve nearly choked in his haste to swallow, to reassure him that no one would dream of trying to make him, but Bucky wasn’t done.

“I think I want to disappear for a little bit, but I am going to talk to Rivera. Find out what her angle is, make sure no one still at NEST is being punished for helping us.”

Steve nodded.

“Of course, and we’ll help you in that, I’ll help you with whatever you need. Just-- if you mean disappear as in… y’aren’t leaving me already are you?” He let a little of his old mulish streets of Brooklyn accent creep into his voice. Bucky just grinned.

“You think you can get rid of me that easy? Hell nawh, Stevie, you’re stuck with me.” He sobered, though. “I just need to take some time to myself, find the balance between who I was, who they made me, and who I was turning into, to figure out who I am now.” He didn’t look at Loki while he spoke, and Loki looked uncomfortable at that.

Steve wondered what had been said between them, what had happened after Loki left, at least in Bucky’s mind.

“So Barnes is making house calls from here on out. Who’s next?” Sam asked, as if they were making a list-- or in one of his help classes.

“Before you run off, Buck, can you tell me a couple things? Like how you knew the scepter was there, and how you got your hands on it?” That was a security question to take back to Fury, because he knew he’d need to mollify him somehow.

“You took out Hydra, yeah, but their mechanisms are still there, some of them, hidden in your shiny SHIELD computers. I was a much higher ranked secret than most people had access to... and so my access code had acquisition permissions above and beyond the top tiers. Why deny a tool a weapon? So when I ran off, I knew you said you’d got the sceptre, I just punched in my access ID and searched for it. And there it was, directions and authorization to take it. Piece of pie.”

Sam whistled. “And we were worried about leaked documents a few months back. That’s wild.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to let Tony know, see if he can’t root it out. I’m gonna go ahead and guess you shouldn’t rely on that system anymore. Can you tell me what your passcode was?” Steve asked. He wanted to shove the words back in his mouth at how sad Bucky looked at that.

“Same thing it always was. 32557-038. Barnes. Didn’t know what the Barnes part meant, after a while.” Steve shuddered, hearing it reported in the same, quiet to almost dead voice that Bucky had used when he found him all those years back, tied to a table and resisting, still fighting.

“And then you press the pound sign.” Bucky added after a moment, and just like that, the tension broke. Steve put a hand on his and patted it, a silent nod to the shared horror, a silent ‘glad you’re okay.’

“How about you, Thor? What’s your plan from here?” Sam asked, moving clockwise around the table, probably the way he did in his groups.

“I think I must return and talk to our-- to my father.” He said, looking to Loki. Steve was surprised, but glad. It made sense that Loki would want to distance himself from the man who had dropped all of this on him, who had betrayed him and hurt him and scarred him up, had taken so much away.

“I’ve disobeyed him in restoring to Loki his years and his strength, and I must answer for it, but more than that, Odin must answer for the wrongs he has committed. And I think none but me would dare to challenge him. Not now that Loki is here.” Thor looked sad and fond, and Loki gave him a weak smirk.

“I only hope you have gotten better at arguing since you’ve grown up brother.” Loki told him. “The last I heard of you two fighting, it was aught but shouted vowels and flying spittle.” He sounded brittle, but the fact that he was mocking at all seemed like a good sign, as far as Steve was concerned. Thor seemed to agree, glancing, unnecessarily, over at Steve.

“And you, Loki?” Sam asked, but his voice was quieter, like he knew he wasn’t gonna like the answer.

“I don’t know.” Loki said slowly, looking down at his plate, which seemed no longer to appeal to him, because he pushed it away. Steve shot a reprimanding look at Sam, but Loki kept talking.

“I am not welcome on Asgard, and as soon as your people realize I am here, I will be in danger. I may have my years and strength back, but without my magic, I am very nearly helpless. I cannot fight to injure if my attackers mean to kill, and killing will only result in my being imprisoned again by your authorities, SHIELD or otherwise.” Loki shook his head. “Provided I was allowed to walk among your people at all.”

He looked at Steve, too, as though he expected an answer.

Steve had none, though, and flinched when Sam asked,

“Steve?”

“I um. I guess, obviously my first step is talking to SHIELD and Tony about the security flaws, finding out what they think they want to do with Loki, probably disobeying some orders on that front--” He turned to look at the man in question. “I’m not letting them lock you up again.” then at Bucky. “Either of you. Not while we don’t know who we can trust, not while we don’t know what’s safe, and what they might have convinced themselves it’s okay to do ‘for the greater good’.” He could hear the heat of his anger in his voice, and cleared his throat.

“Sorry.” He said, and adjusted his gaze to the table.

“I also need to find Sin. It’s our fault she’s on the loose, she’s probably even less stable now than she was, and if we’re really lucky she’ll lead us right to her father.” He made eye contact with Loki again. “If, of course, you’re willing to help me.”

Loki stared at him, surprised.

“Me? I’m useless to you. I haven’t my magic, remember? What I had was all wrapped up in the sceptre, which, as you’ll recall, Cynthia ran off with. Sin.” He corrected himself. Steve felt bad for him. Here they were talking about tracking her down, and he still could only think of her as the little girl he’d known at NEST.

“Yes, but you have knowledge of the sceptre, which will come in handy, and unless Bucky plans on taking you on the run with him, or Sam thinks it would be a good idea for you to move in with him-- kidding Sam-- The only option I see is SHIELD assigning me to help you acclimatize to Earth. By which I mean, if you want to come with me, we’ll go after Sin and keep moving long enough to keep you safe, while PR figures out a way to make the world see you’ve changed.”

Loki seemed unconvinced. “Have I, though? Enough that you feel I should ever be safe in this realm? Especially when your people come to know that Sin and any harm she does, falls to my shoulders?” Thor reached over to pat at Loki’s arm, and Loki flicked a glance of annoyance towards him that Thor cringed from, but neither withdrew.

And Steve felt a horrible lurching in his stomach, because he couldn’t say yes, not honestly. And if anyone was owed honesty at this point, it was Loki.

“I don’t know.” He said instead. “I think if given the chance to prove yourself, if you were willing… The Hulk didn’t make a great impression either, until he stood up to you.” He reminded him, discovering to his surprise that somehow the two versions of Loki that had been so at odds for so long in his mind had somehow become the same.

He wondered if it might have been the suspicion, the fear that Loki had returned to his ways, when he disappeared. It would have forced him to see him not just as victim or villain, forced him to see the man who was both.

“I think I need to get information about the sceptre and how it works to SHIELD, but I need to do so without you being in danger of being caught. Now, I can’t leave you and call, because there’s a good chance they would track the call. And I can’t take you with me, because we both might end up in a cage. So I’m thinking if we can send one of you-- not you Bucky, but Thor or Sam in, maybe we can call you? At least then if someone shows up, I’ll be with Loki.” Steve looked between his friends, uncertain.

“Could we not protect him?” Thor asked, apparently bristling.

Steve shook his head.

“It isn’t that, you are a great warrior, to be sure.” He said, glancing to Loki to be sure the wording was appropriate. He got a small nod in response. “But I’ve been trained in their tactics. And in order to stay in the right, we cannot kill or unduly injure any of our attackers. Which is why it falls to me to protect Loki. His escape from the hospital is my responsibility. When you sent him down here, I found him, and that also makes him my responsibility, for however long he’s here.”

Thor nodded and stood.

“I will go speak to Fury. I will tell him of your wish to speak, and that should he interfere with Loki’s freedom without just cause, he risks the ire of Asgard.” Thor told them, and Sam let out a low whistle. Steve wanted to object, to tell Thor not to threaten with war, that it wouldn’t make them look any better to SHIELD, but he caught sight of Loki and stopped.

Loki was looking at him with a face that begged for his silence. So Steve kept his mouth shut, though it was a close thing.

“And then I will return to Asgard and speak to Odin.”

“Goodbye-- brother.” Loki said softly, and Thor reached out to take a surprisingly gentle hold of Loki’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Loki. For your forgiveness. Friends Steve, Sam, and Bucky, goodbye for now. I will return as soon as I may. Thank you for your help in caring for Loki, and for your help in opening my eyes.”Thor’s gaze settled on Steve, and he found himself nodding as well, the room tense from the solemness of the moment.

And it only broke when Thor left. The wind picked up and Steve could see him launching the hammer and himself.

After that, it was as if everyone in the room let out a breath.

“So I guess that leaves me, doing the Sam thing.” Sam said, not sounding unduly put out about it.

“Actually, I was hoping you might be willing to go to NEST, maybe keep an eye on a few of the residents there. They may be ex-villains, but I think it’s reasonable to say that you are safe, given how their revolt went.” Steve wouldn’t send his friends into danger if he could help it.

“Steve, if you say it’s safe, I’d tap dance across a minefield.” Sam told him, and Bucky snorted.

“This to the scrawny sick kid who thought it was a good idea to take on-- how many was it? Six guys? Over a lifted candy bar.” Bucky was making fun of him, showing his care the way they always had.

“Somethin’ like that,” Steve answered, both embarrassed to be reminded and ecstatic that Bucky remembered.

“On second thought, please don’t ask me to dance across a minefield.” Sam said, looking between them with a little smile quirking his lips upwards.

Steve glanced at Loki, though, and saw his attention turned downwards, his eyes shining wetly. He swallowed, remembering the time Loki had stood on wobbling legs, accusing him of only coming to visit in a bid to use Loki to get closer to Bucky. He remembered how Bucky had held Loki, after that. Loki was prone to jealousy… and self doubt. Steve knew that.

And all Steve had done that day was make him feel like a burden, talk about him like he was something to be handed off, protected… hardly a person. And with Bucky not really even acknowledging Loki…

He’d been an idiot. And he was sure Thor hadn’t helped matters. No matter the front Loki was putting on of reconciliation.

He needed to get Loki alone, needed to talk to him and find out what else was wrong, reassure him without upsetting anyone else.

He must have kept looking at him, because he saw the moment Loki noticed, which was about a moment before his eyes flicked up and met Steve’s.

He watched him heave a sigh.

“May I speak with you privately, Captain?” He asked, and Steve all but scrambled out of his chair.

“Yeah of course-- do you-- can I help you?” He didn’t want to force his aid.

“I manage.” Loki said icily, and Steve nearly flinched.

“We’re just gonna--” Steve gestured back towards his room, letting Loki start on his way, so that Steve wasn’t hovering over him.

Bucky nodded, a half smile on his face.

“We’ll be fine Steve. I have a lot of stories to trade with this guy,” he told him, looking over at Sam and leaning forward, his hands clasped under his chin.

Steve had a feeling whatever was said now between them would be used against him later.

But he needed to focus on one thing at a time, and right now, that needed to be Loki.

He followed him back into his room, and found Loki already seated on the edge of the bed, no doubt having arranged it so that he wouldn’t have to spend too much time on his feet. After everything, he still needed time to heal, whether he would admit to it or not. Time to regain his strength.

He had his years back. Apparently that didn’t come with instant healing. It was faster than normal human speeds,a t least, so Steve could be glad for that.

“Well?” Loki asked.

“Well…” Steve hedged, unsure what Loki was expecting from him.

“Well, you have been staring at me. What is it that you want, what is it I am doing wrong now?” Loki seemed to have reached the end of his patience, and it was almost gratifying hearing the calm begin to unravel.

“I just wanted to know why you’re playing like everything’s fine. You’ve never been shy about telling me when you’ve been hurt before, but ever since you woke up--”

Loki barked out a sharp laugh.

“Yes, I suppose if your torturer was in the room, patting your hand and promising you comfort, you too would be quick to speak up. Or did you forget at whose hands I suffered the injuries you found me with?” Loki glared at him. “Thor’s gift of my years was kind, but I did not want it. Not from him. Not from anyone.”

Steve felt like a knife had been sunk into his chest.

“What do you mean?” He asked softly, not sure he wanted to hear the answer, and a little afraid he already knew.

“I should have been allowed to die.” Loki said succinctly.

“But why?” Steve asked, appalled. “I thought-- you said Death had helped--”

“Yes.” Loki told him impatiently. “I thought she had, I thought that she was taking me away, and solving the problem. But you and Thor ruined it.”

“I don’t understand.” Steve told him bluntly. “You can walk, you have your life back, why would you be so fixated on death now?”

“It was promised to me!” Loki hissed hotly. “Thanos promised, throughout my torture. Odin reminded me it was the only thing I was owed, a promise made to me as a babe and not kept then. Look at me, Captain. I was using all of you, manipulating all of you. It comes as naturally as breathing. Gr--Bucky will not speak to me, will not so much as look too long in my direction. I tried to be good, I tried to do things you would approve of, and just as every time, I have ruined everything in my attempts. Sin-- As I was thrown from her, I saw who she had been, the things she has done. Every person she harms now will be my fault, my responsibility. And even if we catch her… what will become of me? I cannot exist on Midgard. I am hated by any who know me. I cannot return-- will not return to Asgard, even if I were allowed. Where am I to be hidden next? A cell in SHIELD’s holding? Another little house, with higher security? No. Everyone would have been better if I had been left as I was. If I had been allowed to die.”

Steve was aghast.

“Bucky is adjusting. Weren’t you the one who said that he would need time for that, back when you first started helping him, started talking to him?”

“I said he needed time to come to know himself. He has all of his memories now, and yes, though he must create some form of justification… I do not see why he loathes me. I gave him only what he wanted, what he stole the scepter for, what he asked me to do. I did not mean to wrong him. But I suppose he has you back now. So why should he need--” Loki stopped himself, his shoulders hunched forward.

“Even when I kept pushing to be his friend, when he didn’t remember me, there was room for us both. You’re the whole reason he even started talking to me. And you’re often the only thing we had in common to talk about. It’s a change, a shift, yes, but…”

“But he has no need of someone broken, when he is whole again. I do not wish him ill, Captain. I just feel that I am a burden on him. And I am to serve as a wedge between you. He wants to flee here, to strike out on his own rather than spend time with me-- and by binding me to your side you will only push him away, which is not what you want. You have cared for him through all of his ills, as he once did for you. Do not sacrifice that friendship for me.”

“What… happened between you?” Steve asked. “What changed?” He didn’t know how to fix this-- if he even could.

“I left him alone. I took the sceptre and let him doubt. He had never been away from me, between my giving him a name and helping him find himself, and him asking me to bespell him. I needed him to have that time, that distance. I pushed him away, so that he could have a clear mind when he made his choices about me. And it seems… he saw rationally.” Loki looked down into his lap.

“I do not blame him, Captain. I merely do not understand why you do not follow suit.”

This meek, calm, accepting Loki was what made Steve second guess everything.

“Look, whatever’s wrong-- let’s take care of it, okay? You didn’t die, there are people who are glad about that. I- I’m glad about that. I just want you to be, too. As long as you’re alive, you can always bounce back. There is always the chance of redemption.”

“Let me explain to you, Captain, the fundamental understanding that you are missing now. Redemption requires me to be capable of doing good. But as my torturers showed me, I am not. As even my most recent actions have proven-- I try to do good, and I unleash Sin upon your world. And Bucky… Bucky hates me for restoring his memories, it seems. And even if he didn’t, who will ever trust him now? He has been the Winter Soldier, he has had me inside of his mind. And who will believe both are not still controlling him?” Loki asked archly. “No, better than I not attempt good. Only evil springs from the attempt of it.”

“That’s defeatist bullshit. I never really saw you as one to give up.” Steve fired back, angry and scared and uncomfortable with both emotions, leveled at Loki as they were, caused by him and his quiet and his numbness.

He watched Loki draw into himself, watched him become offended, and thought good.

“I am entitled to my bitterness, entitled to my defeat.” Loki said. “I have suffered to earn that right.”

“Is that what you want? Really? Is that the only plan you have for your future? To die?” Steve felt nothing but horror now. But he sounded angry.

“What do you want from me, Rogers? What is it you expect me to do? You cannot decide whether I should be an invalid who needs help down a hallway or some sort of weapon for you to level at your enemies. I am neither! I am nothing. No, less, I am a monster and you know damn well that that is true. So leave me, let me do what needs done--” Loki’s words went from plaintive to heated, and Steve could see the change in his face, too, as the quiet stubbornness was overtaken by his frustration.

But the words themselves made Steve realize something, something he had suspected, but not known. Not until now. It was one thing to accept your death. It was another to actively plan to cause it.

“I am not going to let you kill yourself, Loki. You may think--” he broke off, unsure how to properly address all of Loki’s concerns. “Look, I get it, okay? You messed up, you’re scared. Well, we all fucked up. We all made mistakes, in this, the blame doesn’t fall only on you. But if you kill yourself now? That blame lays on me.”

“I am not scared, Captain.” Loki spat, standing now. “And why should you be responsible for me? Have you not done your part? You have seen me returned to health. You have seen my rehabilitation attempted and failed. You have done all you could for me, and that cleanses your hands of guilt.”

“Yeah? And how about you? You’ve done good things too, you’ve helped people too. What makes you and I different right now is that I don’t let it stop me, I don’t just give up. I keep trying to do good. You asked me what I want from you? That’s it. Do good. Not just for yourself, by not hurting yourself, but for everyone else, too. Help me track down Sin, help me neutralize the threat of her with your sceptre. You said you can’t do good, you said it fails. I can though, I can do good and I’m good at it. So just help me. We’ll see whose ‘fate’ is stronger.”

Loki stared at him, silenced by the force of his words, and Steve was so afraid he’d misstepped. He felt his eyes darting around, trying to decide what Loki was going to make a dash for-- the window, maybe-- but then Loki spoke and Steve held his breath.

“Speak to your superiors, Captain Rogers. If you can get them to agree…” He shrugged, and seated himself again.

Steve let out this breath.

“Thank you Loki. Will-- Will you promise you won’t do anything… anything lethal, without talking to me first?”

Steve asked, and Loki nodded, opening his mouth until his eyes darted to the doorway.

Bucky was standing there, his face so grim that Steve was worried something had tripped him back into full on Winter Soldier mode.

Behind him, Sam looked shaky and confused.

“Why is your voice in my head telling me to kill myself?” Bucky asked, not even acknowledging Steve. His eyes burned furiously into Loki’s, and Steve was aghast. Loki flinched and looked down at his lap, fingers tightening around one another. But he stayed silent.

“Loki.” Bucky said, his voice a warning. “What did you do?”

“I told you. I warned you this would happen-- that our minds would be linked, that--” Loki’s words broke off when Bucky strode forward and grabbed hold of him roughly.

Even as Steve stepped forward to put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, he was able to marvel at how Loki didn’t raise his hands, not in fear or to fight. He really was ready for whatever came for him.

“So what? So you’re telling me every time you feel like you should kill yourself, I’m going to hear it? Everytime you think what a monster you are, you’re gonna be echoing in my head? Because it sounds to me like you’re calling me that. Telling me to kill myself.” Bucky was growling his words out now, and Sam and Steve could only trade a worried look, until Bucky crushed Loki to his chest in what was possibly the most violent hug Steve had seen lately.

“I’m sorry.” Loki said, somewhere between surprised and pitiful. “I didn’t want this, you know I didn’t.”

“I know.” Bucky told him, still gruff. “That doesn’t change it though. You can’t want to die, I can’t deal with that in my head.”

Steve didn’t know how he should feel-- angry for Loki inflicting that on Bucky, concerned for Loki, with Bucky holding onto him after just discovering… Jealous, because the both of them still needed one another no matter what Loki said or Steve did to try and make things easier.

He had been confused before, concerned by how he didn’t understand their relationship-- things, he thought, were about to get so much worse.

“So are you saying that the two of you have some sort of non-verbal communication gig going on?” Sam asked, and Loki, peering out from under Bucky’s arm, managed a muffled “No,” only to be overlapped by Bucky’s, “I guess.”

Buck let him go, and took a step back, his hands on his hips.

Loki looked away, and Steve frowned, looking back and forth between them.

“Well, which is it?” He asked a little sharper than he’d intended.

Bucky glared at him, and that brought him down instantly. But it was Loki who spoke.

“I do not have my powers to stifle the connection. Before-- before I could control it, save when my control slipped… like when Barton heard me-- when Barton heard my screams. This though… it appears it is much less filtered.”

“Well, I don’t get anything when you’re just sitting there, so I dunno, maybe it’s just you being upset.” Bucky said, crossing his arms and shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “What uh, what about me? You hear anything from me?” He asked, and while he didn’t sound vulnerable exactly, Steve could hear the caution in his voice.

“Not until just now.” Loki said, and the look he gave Bucky was startled, like he’d heard something he hadn’t expected to.

Bucky didn’t seem to have anything else to say, shouldering past Sam and into the hall.

Steve looked to Loki, who just gestured after him.

A moment later, the front door slammed closed.

“We’re good. Go catch your buddy.” Sam told him, and though Steve saw the wary glare that Sam levelled at Loki, he had to prioritize.

He chased Bucky before he could disappear again.

He couldn’t help but think, though it was horrible that he did, as he followed Bucky’s hunched shoulders down the sidewalk, resisting the urge to call out for him and draw attention, that he was almost relieved at the idea of them all splitting up to go their own ways.

He’d only had Bucky and Loki together under his roof for a single day, and he already felt spread painfully thin, unable to help all the people he needed to at once.

When he caught up to him, he didn’t touch him, reach out and grab his shoulder the way he wanted to. He just fell into step next to him with his head down to keep from attracting stares.

Bucky was the one who moved first, intentionally leaning into him while he walked.

“It’s not you, you know that right? I’m not running from you.” Bucky’s words were soft and kind, but rough around the edges, the same way they’d grown up.

“So what’cha running from? Let me help, Buck. I want to, now I can.”

“Can you?” Bucky challenged, and suddenly he sounded like the winter soldier all over again. “Look, you have your secrets, same as everybody else, right? Stuff I don’t know about. And that’s fine. I have those, but I have three peoples’ worth of them in my head. Buckys, The Soldier’s, and Loki’s. And Loki’s seen all of mine. It’s hard talking to people, once they see you all naked and vulnerable like.”

“I’ve seen you naked Buck, c’mon.” Steve said, trying for playful but falling flat. “But that’s it, then? No big blow up, no crazy betrayal… you’re pushing him away because he knows what you did?”

“It’s enough. Trust me.” Bucky said, and his eyes squeezed shut.

“I’m not saying it isn’t.” Steve responded simply. “I just wanted to make sure that I wasn’t supposed-- didn’t need to hate him for what he did to you.”

“Don’t hate him.” Bucky said, more feeling in those three words than had been in the rest of their conversation as a whole. “For me, do that. Don’t hate him.”

Steve stared, still not sure how Bucky worked now, how Loki and he worked put together.

“Alright, yeah. I don’t want to hate him, anyway. What about you, though, what are you gonna do?” He meant in regards to Loki being in Bucky’s head.

“I’m gonna do what I said; talk to Rivera, figure out where she stands in all of this. And if she’s as fucked as I think, I’m gonna kill her.” Hearing that come from Bucky’s lips, calm and serious, made a shiver go down Steve’s spine.

“Buck…” He said, somewhere between a warning and a whine.

“No, Stevie. If anyone deserves to do that, it’s me. She used me to hurt someone else. I am gonna go after her, make the call, and then every single living Hydra asshole who ever gave me an order is gonna be next. And you aren’t gonna try and argue right and wrong with me on this.”

Steve closed his mouth with a snap.

“Is this gonna help you sleep better at night, Bucky?” He asked, uncomfortable with the thought of how many people around him were willing to kill, how many of those closest to him found it easy to do so.

“You know what?” Bucky replied, a slow, predatory grin spreading over his face. “I really think it will, yeah.”

And what could Steve possibly say to that?


	3. Three

“So I hear you’re going to be partnering up with Captain America to track down this problem you made.”

The voice on the other end of the line was changed by the device, but still recognizable.

“Director Fury, I’m honored, I am sure. I take it Thor spoke to you, then.”

“I was told in no uncertain terms that you were no longer punishable for past crimes by us. Congratulations, you’re a free man. Fuck up and you won’t ever see the light of day again, I promise you that.”

Rogers looked on, concerned but, it seemed, unable to hear what was being said. Loki smiled.

“Yes, Director, I understand. For the record, however, the problem was there, I merely exacerbated it.”

“Let the record show I don’t give a damn. You undid our solution to the problem, you let her escape, and you armed her with one of the stronger weapons currently available to anyone anywhere. The semantics of who made the problem first don’t interest me. Getting Sin back under our control does . Now, I’m gonna need to have you come in, get you outfitted. I might not have much choice about sending you out there, but I can at least make sure that if you get hurt, I can say we did everything in our power to stop that happening. And that means training, equipment, and uniform. Hand me off to the Captain now so I can tell him the same thing.”

Loki, bemused, held the receiver up for Steve to take from him.

“Yes sir?” He asked.

Loki watched his face flicker though emotions-- indignance: “Look--”, annoyance: “I don’t see why--”, chastisement and the silence it brought, and finally, “Yes sir. We’ll be there before six.” Acceptance.

“I wonder what training they think they will have to offer me.” Loki commented brightly, partially because after all of the Captain’s unpleasant moods, it would be a spot of unexpected brightness in contrast, distancing himself from being the cause… and also because he thought it would likely annoy him further.

“Non lethal force, maybe? Gun use? Ways of fighting that don’t involve relying on the magic you don’t have?” Rogers was a little snide in his delivery, and that surprised Loki into silence.

Clearly, though, the good Captain misread his lack of words.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--” He huffed out a breath and stood from the chair.

Sam had gone home, Thor back to Asgard, and Bucky to… who knows where. Which left him alone with the man shouldering the burden of responsibility for him.

And he was making life as difficult for him as possible, at the moment.

He knew it was awful of him, but he didn’t much care.

 Ah, so you haven’t told Fury of my will to die.” He said it casually. “He would not be so interested in arming me, otherwise.”

Steve’s head snapped back around to stare at him, horrified.

“You said we would talk before you did anything.”

“We are talking now.” Loki pointed out. “I am not threatening to kill myself, however. I am merely surprised you haven’t alerted your superiors to my mental state. Or are you afraid they would label me too unstable to be allowed to join you?”

“They still might.” Steve told him, frank and direct, but not unkind. “I’m sure part of the reason we’re going in is so that they can do a psych eval on you. Though what they’ll do if you fail, I’m not really sure.” And that seemed to trouble him.

“I can assure you, whatever they might, I hardly care.” He told him, voice cool and placid.

“You aren’t helping, Loki.” Steve told him shortly, and he could only smile.

“And you are trying too hard to help, Captain. A truce, then? I will go with you to SHIELD, I will pass their tests and learn their teachings, I will help you to find Sin. And you will give the sceptre to me, and with it, I will find my own way. I will disappear, and your world will be free of both myself and the weapon. What do you say?”

“What do I say?” He asked, his words disbelieving and offended. “I say you’re an idiot. You think that’s what I want? You think that’s all I’m concerned with?”

Loki could hear Steve’s frustration and he almost flinched at the ferocity of it.

“You think all I’m interested in is getting you out of my hair?” He seemed to have done it now, and the way Rogers had rounded on him--

“Are we just not going to talk about what happened that day? About how I argued with Death over you? That’s who that was, right? Death? I yelled at Death because I didn’t want to lose you and--” Rogers’ mouth snapped shut and his eyes bulged a little before he swallowed, the click of it audible even from where he sat.

Loki was stricken.

“Why Captain, I didn’t know you cared.” He murmured.

It seemed it was the exact wrong thing to say. Rogers abruptly beelined for the hallway.

He turned back at the last minute.

“You.” He pointed an angry finger at Loki. “Stay here. Don’t do anything stupid, don’t leave the apartment, no blood, no tears, and don’t send Bucky any non-verbal instructions. I just need some time to-- I need some time.”

He sounded so harried, Loki couldn’t help but let his guard fall. He nodded, feeling himself drawing inwards.  
Steve had always been kind, always tried to help. He was behaving badly, treating him horribly-- and why? Because he’d realized, at the absolute last minutes of his life, that he mattered? But that was ridiculous, you don’t beat someone for being kind, you don’t--

Well.

Loki did.

Good people didn’t, but Loki did.

And as he had done countless times since arriving here, he had driven the Captain, his primary-- and now, sole defender, away.

Loki sat at the table, his hands laced, and waited for Rogers to emerge, unsure what he should and shouldn’t touch, what he could and couldn’t do without violating the Captain’s orders.

He emerged eventually, having showered and changed apparently, which was for the best. Loki was sure that beneath the clothing he’d thrown on hurriedly, his skin had still been tacky with Loki’s blood. Better that it be forgotten as soon as possible.

Neither of them needed the visual or tactile reminder of Loki’s most recent failure to be a good person.

But then, maybe that was his problem; the assumption that he was a person. The pretense of it, when he knew better. He wasn’t anything. He’d been too undone for that.

So instead Loki sat, calmly and quietly in the Captain’s kitchen chair, and held himself as still as possible while he thought.

He truly had no options. He was now longer lived, again. He could finish out his days here, if only he were not so recognizable, if only none knew him. Perhaps the humans had ways of changing faces, perhaps if he scarred himself somehow, it would be enough that he would pass for someone else. Though, he did not suppose that was the best way to fit in. It would seem that approach might make him stand out further. And he could fight, but as Fury said-- it would take but one wrong move, one human killed in self defense, and he would be lost. If, as Rogers pointed out, he was even capable of defending himself without his magic.

This was not to bring to bear the concern of how he might find employment or learn to support himself, being not only unskilled but also undocumented. If he were to run from SHIELD’s caring grasp, he would cease to exist, according to this world’s laws and customs. And thus he would have to take the lowliest jobs possible, and pray that none noticed his failure to age on their scale. He could move every few years, and work the remainder of his life with his hands. He could muck stables. He could learn simple tasks, things that would draw no attention to him. But that would be as good as being dead, as good as not existing at all, for what form of existence was that?

So he needed Rogers, needed to play by his rules and work with him, take what he was given and say thank you for it, no matter how he might resent them. But his resentment made so little sense, particularly in regards to the Captain. He had unbound him, seen him treated and healed and brought to a place where he might have, had things gone to plan, learned how to integrate himself into society. When Loki had disappeared, Rogers had gone to Thor and convinced him of his wrongs, talked him into coming. And so it was at least partially his fault that Loki was as restored now as he was, the apple and his own life gifts from both the Odinson and the Captain.

And Loki was being petty, morose, and morbid. Anyone else would be grateful for what Rogers had done for them, but of course he couldn’t be. Perhaps creatures, monsters such as he, did not have the capacity for such emotions. It would not have surprised him.

Thus chastised, he sat and tried to think of when else he ought to have shown gratitude, of how long he had allowed that portion of his compassion to slip away from him.

 

Steve emerged at last, clearly having showered, his wet hair a testament to his activities. He seemed calmer, now, as well, but wary, as though he suspected Loki would not be. He stepped out of his room and closed the door slowly and carefully, then stopped, perhaps to gather himself before stepping forward into the room at an almost hurried gait.

However when he found Loki sitting at the table, drawn inwards, small and lost looking, he seemed to lose steam. Loki sat up and squared his shoulders, snapping into at the very least the appearance of being okay.

“I want to apologize--”

“You should probably shower--”

They spoke in tandem and Rogers scoffed before gesturing at Loki.

“You go ahead.”

“Do I smell that poorly?” He asked sardonically, then shook his head. “No, sorry. I wished to apologize; I have… been less than helpful, less than cooperative.” He sounded demure enough that he did not think that he could cause offense, and somber enough to be taken seriously, but still the Captain sighed and sat down opposite Loki, the table between them.

“Look, I know I’ve been… a little unsure, a little...It’s been hard, trying to figure out how to deal with all this, and I know I’ve been short tempered. And I know things have changed, but...we trusted one another. I know that… what happened in the recovery house, it wasn’t what I thought it was when I had you put in their care, and I am so sorry for that.” And he did sound sorry. “I can’t blame you if you hate me for it.” He said, and Loki could hear him trying to force emotions out of his voice. He didn’t quite succeed, his words gone thin and reedy. The idea that Loki might hate him clearly hurt him, worried him.

The cruel side of Loki, the side he had given permission to reign since he woke up again, wanted to throw it in his face, to take this admission, this show of vulnerability, and use it against him.

But there was a part of him that remembered Rogers, a week after he’d been in the home, come straight from a mission and not yet having slept, sitting in the chair in Loki’s room and crying out of frustration, because though he had tried to help, no choice he made seemed to be right for Loki.

It felt to him like that same side of the man lay close to the surface now. And he had bowed to it then, let the Captain’s pain dictate to him how to behave, at least for a time. And good had come of that; he’d been able to move onwards, to grow relationships and take his physical therapy, to learn to walk again.

So maybe it was best that he listen to what that part of him was demanding. It had served him well before.

“I do not hate you.” He said, speaking carefully. “I have not yet decided whether I can not hate Thor, but you-- I know you have done your utmost to aid me, ever since I arrived here. And I appreciate that, though I know I have done a terrible job of showing it.”

Rogers chortled, lowered his head as if to nod, then caught himself.

“No, you-- uh--”

“Don’t lie to me.” Loki told him lightly, the hint of threat there just the same. He huffed out a breath and tried a different tack.

“I imagine, with the change in things, we should have a discussion. About expectations, about plans. But I also expect that we haven’t the time before we’re to meet Fury and his team. So perhaps you could brief me on what you think will be expected of me today.”

He could see Steve thinking before he spoke, and again had to marvel that this man and Thor could be friends. They were so unalike.

“I can’t really say for sure, but I have a feeling they’ll want to find out exactly how strong you are, physically. They’ll need to take some measurements of things like your heart rate and blood type… stuff so, if you get injured again, we can help out, now that you’re all healed up and everything in your body is the way it needs to be.”

Loki could hear the concern underlying the Captain’s words, though.

“All of which are things they could just as easily use against me. So my allowing this would be seen as a sign of trust, a… guarantee, if you will. Partially of my cooperation, and partially for your safety.”

“I think you have to tell them that’s what it is, otherwise they will just assume they’re smarter than you, and you don’t realize what you’re giving them. They do that.” He sounded almost apologetic, and Loki wanted to scowl, but it didn’t matter enough to him that he would bother.

“Fine. And Fury mentioned something of outfitting me?” He pressed.

“The armor that our people wear to minimize damage. I know as much as you don’t want to be, you’re pretty much a human now, and we have to do what we can to keep your body from going through any more injuries and hurts.” Rogers’ face took on an odd expression, and Loki had a feeling that he was remembering seeing Loki bleeding out. It made him clear his throat.

“Right.” He sighed. “So there will be SHIELD agents either close to me or touching me. No wonder you thought I ought to shower.” He tried to make light of it, but his outlook was dark.

Even Nico and the other nurses and handlers at NEST had been a strain on what he would allow, and he had only done so because they were actively helping him. Then he had had nothing left to lose, and only his health to gain, and he’d been enough of an invalid to play on both their sympathies and the Captain’s protective nature.

Now though… now he was whole for the time being. He had his years. He had, however temporarily, his freedom, and as long as he behaved and appeared cooperative, he would have a chance to reclaim the sceptre and be sure that he kept all of the above. He had only to bear these latest indignities and keep the Captain pacified.

But if he entrusted himself to these unknowns, these Agents, what might they do? If they provoked him and someone was injured, as Fury said, he would never see the light of day again. He had no magic, only his strength, which, while considerable against a human, could still be overcome.

He wondered what the likelihood was of this being merely an excuse to detain him, to lock him away.

And so, once again, he had to appeal to Captain Rogers.

“Captain? You do not suppose this is merely a feint to attempt to get me to… react to something, some stimuli, poorly, do you? I only mean.” He hesitated, hoping to seem more uncertain than he was. “If there are enough of them, and someone claims I have lashed out, or not cooperated, it would take so little for this to turn to my being bound by your SHIELD, and nothing I could do or say to talk myself out of it or save myself. I do not want that.” He exhaled hard. “Damn, but I am tired of being helpless.” He stood abruptly and took short strides around the table.

“Do you really mistrust us-- me-- that much?” Rogers asked, as if it surprised him. Loki felt a sharp laugh prise its way through his lips.

“What reason have I to trust them?” He asked. “You, you I trust. I have had to, and you have given me no reason to believe you anything but honorable. However.” Loki tried not to shrink in on himself again. “From their point of view, it is no doubt that I am a problem that would be best dealt with by being locked away and forgotten… or completely removed, whichever came first. Look at all I have done to your world, to the people on it. All of the various horrors I have unleashed. Even Grima, Bucky, the person I wanted to protect the most, you have seen now what I have done to him. And they will hold all of this against me.”

“If you’re afraid they’re going to use this as an excuse to hurt you or claim you hurt someone else, you don’t need to worry. I’ll stay with you the whole time. But I need you to try and remember, Loki: we’re the good guys, it’s pretty much what we do. And yeah, you found a little bad pocket, but I can guarantee, that’s… less common than you think.” He didn’t sound at all certain.

Loki very much doubted it. Rogers was naive and optimistic and most likely wrong, but that was an argument he would save for later.

“If you will stay with me, then I will be easier about it, yes. I suppose if you really do not know what they want of me in specifics, though, it would be best that I shower as you suggested, and we go and have done with it.”

“Yeah, alright. Come this way, let me get you set up.” The Captain agreed readily, and gestured before him.

Loki followed Rogers back to his room, through it, and into the bathroom, where the man excused himself and then returned with a towel. He demonstrated the hot and cold water functions, the soaps, and the fan that was meant to suck some of the heat and humidity out of the room, and once he was done with that, he looked around, obviously checking to see if he had missed anything.

Loki saw him hesitate, then remove from his counter the blade that he clearly used for shaving.

So for all of Rogers’ upset at Loki not trusting his word, he didn’t trust Loki’s either. That was probably for the best, Loki thought. That way, if he had to betray the Captain, it would not come as a surprise.

Washed, dried, and wearing a set of the soldier’s too-large clothes, Loki followed Rogers downstairs and into the black SUV that waited for them there.

He stayed silent on the drive, though the Captain was busily engaging the driver and armed guard beside him, and tried to include Loki in the conversation. He was having no part of it.

Once out of the car, Loki was forced to ignore the detail of men around him, aiming their guns at him. It seemed utterly unnecessary, given that he was unarmed and lacking in powers. He would have expected that they insist on binding his wrists again, rather than placing so many men on duty, but he supposed, given the tightening of Rogers’s jaw, he should be grateful. Nothing he did or said would win back the Captain’s confidence in him quite so effectively as what he saw as an overt show of force against him.

Poor Captain. If Loki was to work with him, the first thing he needed to teach him was not to confuse pity with trust. It was no doubt a lesson that would serve him well, once Loki was gone.

They marched him into an elevator and he watched the way Rogers’s jaw tightened when one man prodded at him with the butt of his gun, directing him further from the panel of buttons.

This felt terrible, and Loki’s pulse was thundering so fast that he was certain that they could all see the blood making the skin of his neck jump and flutter. It was handing himself over to those who were openly hostile.

He did not mind the idea of dying, but this was not how he would choose it. This would be messy and harsh and--

sensation slid through him, a second hand experience of pain, and he knew that Bucky had heard him-- and was telling him to shut up. By hurting himself.

Loki snuck a glance at Rogers, who was watching him closely.

He was going to be furious when he found out-- if he found out.

Loki pinched himself, hard, hoping that would go through, would communicate that he heard and understood. He couldn’t do anything more just at the moment.

The doors chimed and opened, and the guards between him and the exit stepped out then quickly moved to flank the way-- they expected him to take off in a mad dash down one of the halls.

The only option was for him to walk forward toward the door directly before him, and Rogers walked at his side, while one of the men broke ranks to pull it open.

Within, the room was stripped as bare as they could get it, he supposed. The floor was as blank and barren as the walls, as if they thought he could somehow weaponize even the carpet.

There was an empty table and a man or woman in white to bear each of the instruments they intended to use on him; they were clearly taking no chances. Loki eyed them, wary. All of this seemed wrong; terrifying and awful.

“What the hell is this?” Rogers demanded, when they had come to a halt in the doorway.

“It’s a few tests, just like we said.” Fury spoke smoothly from behind them, and while Rogers had the freedom to turn and look, Loki held himself still, lest his movement be misread as antagonizing, as threatening. He kept himself from moving and kept his eyes down. He could hear two pairs of footsteps, though, which meant that Fury was not alone.

“This looks like some kind of torture room. I’ve seen HYDRA clinics look more welcoming.” The Captain was angry, that was clear in his voice, and Loki could all but imagine the expression on his face.

“Loki, do you have any problem with us testing you for our records?” Fury asked, ignoring Rogers entirely, and Loki winced, then squared himself up and turned to stand his ground.

“I would rather you didn’t, but I understand why you wish to. So, in the interest of treating this as an act of goodwill, I will cooperate. On the condition that Rogers is ordered to remain in the room. That is my sole demand.” He set his jaw and did not look to Rogers, because he was certain the man’s face would betray the feelings that Loki was so good at keeping hidden on his own.

“Agent Hill, arrange a chair for Captain Rogers.” Fury said, at length, and Loki let out his breath while Hill-- the other person who had come in with Fury, apparently, snapped off a “Sir.” and went to it.

Smart man, Fury; if Rogers remained, he would no doubt loom and be tense. Seating him would put him out of the doctors and scientists’ lines of sight, make him less intimidating and less distracting.

Loki stood with his hands at his sides, unwilling to even allow himself to make fists of them, in the interest of appearing as harmless as possible.

Rogers sat, though begrudgingly, and Fury had the doors sealed while he took up post between them and Loki.

“I appreciate that you are the sort of man to make yourself an obstacle between myself and those under your command, but you really needn’t worry, Director.” Loki said, speaking frankly but in a tone so silky that he was certain SHIELD would be analyzing it for ages, trying to find the lie. “I have already given the Captain my word that I would cooperate. I have no intention of betraying that promise.”

“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” Fury asked.

Loki shrugged and raised his brow at the first of the white clad workers to step forward, a woman who seemed to be all but quailing in her boots. Still, she came first; it had to count for something.

“We just want to start by taking your blood pressure. Nothing complicated. This cuff will go around your arm, and I will inflate it with air using this bulb,” She held up the pieces to demonstrate, “And it will tighten, squeeze a little, but no damage will be done, and the dial here will give us a measurement. Just for our records.” She spoke in a voice that had seen many bedsides, and the fact that she talked him through it ahead of time made him pleased that it had been she who stepped up first.

“You may put your cuff on me.” He allowed, and sent a quick look in Rogers’ direction, just to be sure it was the correct decision. Rogers nodded once slowly, but Loki could also tell that it had not escaped Fury’s attentions. Though he remained silent, his brow rose. Loki wondered what the man made of the exchange.

When his blood pressure had been measured and recorded, the next doctor explained that he intended to draw blood, and Loki merely nodded, amused when one needle after another bent upon his skin.

Finally, he had to offer to let them to use a scalpel, that they might open a small cut in his skin and gather what they needed from there. It was not as good of a supply, he realized, but it would do for their purposes.

He moved around when asked, answered questions with yeses and nos, and as soon as the last of the white clad people had finished with him, he turned to face Fury.

“Alright, we’re done here. Thank you for your cooperation.” Something about the way that he spoke the words made Loki feel ill at ease; as though he had passed some test, but only just barely.

Rogers, too, had frown lines on his face that said he felt the same way, but he held his silence. There was nothing overly threatening about that.

“This way please, gentlemen.” Fury led them back through the doors and down the corridor to their left, the guards falling into step around them.

Loki glanced again at Steve, less for guidance and more to judge his feelings on what was happening. Loki had felt very little like himself, since dying, and he felt a good deal less like himself now, behaving so very like a sheep.

He did not, however, intend to allow himself to be led to the slaughter. Rogers, with his inability to hide anything, would be his first clue to if that was going to happen.

“Now, we’re going to be treating you as a special agent, not one of our usual, but out in the field just the same. Which means we’re gonna have you go through all the same tests a real Agent would.”

“That’ll take days.” Captain Rogers said sharply. “I don’t know about you but I don’t want to put that kind of time between Sin and us. She’s already got enough of a head start as it is.”

By which, of course, Rogers meant that Loki had already cost them enough time. He would be inclined to agree. He’d also be inclined to feel guilty about it, if it weren’t for the fact that they were only making it worse by forcing him through these inane tests, instead of getting out of the way.

“Yeah, but we need to have some means of telling-- one that he’s not going to to get you killed and two, he isn’t going to turn around and kill you.” Hill spoke to Rogers of him as if he were not there.

Loki bristled at that.

“The Captain has my word and my gratitude for all he has done for me. Surely--”

“Surely you don’t expect us to take your word for it?” Fury fired back, and Loki’s mouth snapped shut, reminded again that he was not on Asgard where honor counted for as much as, if not more than, gold.

Not that his word was worth any more there than a single copper, and worth considerably less, here.

“What do you suggest, then? Because if you ask him to run your course and do your psych evals, it’ll be a week before we can get on the road.” Rogers’s jaw was set, his words tight between his teeth.

“It’s your neck on the line, Rogers, you who has to deal with him. You said you think he’s solid enough to go, fine. We’ll outfit the two of you, give you the means, but you won’t get any men to endanger unless he goes through all of our tests and passes with flying colors.”

“Without being trained for them.” The Captain’s voice was so flat that his challenge did not even seem to be a question.

“I don’t see much alternative. Do you?”

“You want proof he’s not going to break my neck at the first chance? You want some idea of how strong he is? Fine. I don’t think we need any additional men, and I certainly wouldn’t want you to think I would wilfully endanger anyone.” Rogers’s sarcasm almost made Loki smile, but even if he had, what came next would have wiped that away. “Let me fight him. Let him spar against me and demonstrate what he can do.”

Loki’s mouth fell open.

“Captain, I--”

“Fine.” Fury interrupted, smooth and decisive, and Loki stopped speaking. He agreed so quickly that Loki could not help but think that maybe that was what he had been after in the first place.

But Loki would not allow himself to be so easily dictated to.

“Do you really think this wise? If I do not fight to the best of my ability, I will be accused of attempting to withhold the truth of my strength, in an attempt to be underestimated. If I fight as best I can, there is the risk of not only injury for you, but that my tries at besting you be interpreted as an attempt upon your life, and I fear that with as many men as are around us now who are armed, I would not survive such an accusation… and moreover, you may be caught in the crossfire.”

Two could play the game of speaking to Rogers as if they were alone with him.

“It seems ill advised, no matter how I consider it. And atop all of that, I have no wish to fight you. As I said, I am grateful, to you.” He turned to fully face Rogers, hoping that the pleading he was doing with his eyes would make up for the calm he forced into his words.

Nothing about this felt safe, or controlled, or even anything like what he had expected. He thought he would be tested with machines, or with questioning-- not with a fight. And especially not one against the man who, thus far, had done his utmost to protect him.

 I know you don’t like it. Neither do I. But it’s a good way for them to gauge your abilities-- they’ve already measured mine over and over again, so it will give a good benchmark comparison, and get us out of here and on Sin’s trail faster. I know you’re worried, but we’ll be careful, okay, you and I, and no one will have any reason to doubt.” The Captain’s eyes flicked to Fury, over Loki’s shoulder. “Or intervene.” He said, voice sharpened into a warning.

And Loki was stuck, because he could not use the excuses he just had and make it seem as though he did not trust Rogers by continuing to question him. They had to show a united front, regardless of the rift that had developed, the work that Loki had undone by disappearing the way he had.

He bowed his head, a very visible submission on his part to the Captain’s will.

“If you think it best,” he murmured, though he knew that Fury could hear as well, “I want it on record that I do not like it-- but I will fight with you.”

“I’ll have the gym on this level cleared out.” Hill said, sounding either smug or pleased; Loki did not know her well enough to guess.

“How long will that take?” Rogers asked.

“Not more than… say ten minutes? I’ll get some mats put out, too.” Hill told him, and Loki watched as Rogers gave a sharp nod.

He turned then, slowly so that no one would think it an attack, and angled himself so that he could see both Fury and Rogers.

“So what form of sparring is this to be?” He asked after a moment’s hesitation.

“Unarmed.” Director Fury supplied. “Hand to hand, I just want to see how you work against one another.”

That left a good deal available, and answered very few questions.

“We’ve fought before-- remember in Germany?” The Captain prompted. It felt like a lifetime ago, but he did remember.

“I had my power, then, I could heal myself. And I was armed.” Loki pointed out, glancing at Fury to see if he looked glad of this change. His face was impassive.

“Well, the whole point of it is to know what you’re capable of now, so. Just pretend that this is like then. You weren’t actually trying to kill me then, either, were you-- you needed to get us to bring you to Bruce, right? So… just do that now. Don’t kill me, obviously, if you get the opportunity. But even if you knock me around a bit, I’ll heal up pretty fast. Faster than you, these days.” The Captain added as an after thought.

“Yes, that was part of my concern. I do not want your people believing that I am actually attempting to kill you, and harming or killing me as a result. And I do not want you to think that because I have regained my strength I have also regained my own abilities to heal. If you do not wish to be held up for a week, you certainly would not like to be held up for however long it takes to mend broken bones.”

Fury actually laughed at that, and Loki shot him a dirty look.

“Afraid of getting a little banged up?” Fury asked him, and Loki scowled, trying to find something pithy to say, but Rogers interrupted.

“It’s a valid concern, given that he’s unused to the limitations of this form of his body.” He was clearly chastising his superior, and Loki had to mask his smugness at that. “Don’t worry though; I spar against normal…. unmodified humans… all the time. I won’t let any real harm come to you.”

“No one is asking for bloodshed.” The Director agreed. “I just want to match you in speed and strength and control. Get a picture of how you work, what you can do now that you are in a different state than we’ve ever seen you in. It’ll give our guys a better idea of how to equip you, too.”

Loki’s scowl remained in place, but when Hill reappeared, he followed her into the hall, Rogers and Fury and the guard detail in tow.

He did not anticipate this ending in anything but pain for himself, and he could not make himself look forward to it at all. But he did want to have done with it.

“Maybe, let’s take off our shoes?” Rogers offered the suggestion hesitantly, and Loki saw how the hardened rubber might damage his flesh, and nodded.

“There’s a changing room through there. We have tanks and bottoms for you that will be better suited for physical activity.” Hill nodded.

Rogers started in the direction of the door, then paused.

“Loki’s going to come with me, and we’re not going to have a bunch of guards with us. If you can trust he and I to fight, and I can trust him enough to sleep in the same room as him, you can deal with us being gone so he can change in privacy.” Loki saw his jaw thrust forward in that way that said it was no use arguing with him, and he was secretly overjoyed.

Director Fury on the other hand, looked less than thrilled.

“You’ve got three minutes, and then we will take down the door if need be.”

Loki shuddered but hurried forward, loathe to lose time when so little had been assigned to the task.

The small amount of time also forbade him the luxury of being uncomfortable with how little of himself was to be protected. The shirt bared all of his arms and his neck, the thin fabric covering only his torso. The pants they had provided covered far less, the fabric ending shortly below the crease where his arse met his thighs.

But it was not so little time as to keep Rogers from being able to look, able to comment-- when Loki turned his back to the man to dress in silence and afford him some privacy, the Captain inhaled sharply through his teeth, and Loki had looked up, worried, but not stilling his movements.

“Sorry,” Rogers said, blushing inexplicably as he looked down and peeled his own shirt off, muscles rippling beneath his skin at the simple motion of it. ”I just, I sort of hoped your back would be all healed up, too.” He looked sad, embarrassed, and Loki did not have time to work out what the man was feeling and why.

“Well, clearly it has not.” He only partially succeeded in keeping the bite out of his voice.

Rogers winced and pulled on his replacement shirt, and Loki could not help but let his eyes skim across his arms, powerful looking and large with muscles. Sizing up his opponent.

Once they were as dressed as they were going to get, they opened the door and returned to everyone else’s presence.

Fury raised his brow and Looked to Hill once he saw them, and she lifted her shoulders defensively. “It’s what the guys wear to wrestle.”

“Is that what we’re gonna do? Wrestle?” Rogers asked, words sharp again.

“I think you should just fight as you would, first person to pin the other flat for a ten count wins. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds as though you do not spend overmuch time judging sparring matches, Director.” Loki ventured, and Hill laughed, then covered for it with a cough.

“It’s fine. Come on Loki, let’s get this over with.” Rogers sounded as though he were gritting his teeth through this.

Loki took a deep calming breath and nodded shakily before moving into stance.

He shifted his weight as he had learned to and waited, taking the defensive rather than attacking outright.

Rogers, of course, knew this was about testing him. He lunged forward, a telegraphed fist bound for Loki’s head, but he stepped to the side, taking it to his shoulder instead, at less than full force-- but he knew that had it connected as intended, it would have hurt a good deal. The Captain may be pulling his blows, but he was not faking them.

Wary now, Loki wedged his knee between his body and Rogers’s and used it to push him back, to create space between them. Just enough that he could bring his foot down on the Captain’s inner thigh just above his knee. If he had been in his boots, or even the Captain’s shoes, he might have knocked him to his knees. Instead, all he managed to do was cause him to stagger for a moment and bend that leg-- which was enough for Loki to use it as a step to launch himself up and onto Rogers’s shoulder.

He straddled him, a leg on either side of his body, and pitched to the side, attempting to send both Rogers and he tumbling to the cushioned floor. Rogers, however, was better prepared than that, and simply leaned with it, using his hands to loosen Loki’s leg hold and toppling Loki from his shoulder to the floor.

Loki landed with a grunt and saw Rogers straighten and open his mouth to ask if he was okay. Rather than give him the opportunity, Loki kicked his legs out from under him, then launched himself atop him.

He pressed his hands down onto the balls of his shoulders, attempting to hold him to the floor-- if he could reach ten, this would be over.

Unfortunately, though, he was perched high enough on Rogers’ form to leave his legs free to move, and the Captain wrapped his ankles around Loki’s body and pulled him backwards, rolling them so that Loki was pinned the way Rogers had been, but a few moments previously.

Loki stayed limp for a long moment, taking a few ragged breaths while he tested the Captain’s hold on him, tested the weight that the man applied to his wrists.

He could feel that he wasn’t the only one breathing harshly, and when he looked up into Rogers’s face and smiled, the Captain looked momentarily horrified.

Not merely taken aback-- genuinely concerned, but by the time Loki registered the expression, he had already used his legs to launch Rogers over his head and onto his back.

With his strength returned to him, the larger man’s body weight was negligible. He rolled to his side and then to his feet and moved towards his opponent, who used the space to flip upwards onto his own feet, and now crouched forwards, looking at him warily.

They’d had a taste of what one another could do, now; the preliminaries of the fight were done, and Loki knew they were about to begin in earnest.

He turned his thoughts to disabling Rogers, using what he knew of his attacks and parries. Was there any glaring weakness, anything that stood out as an opening for him? Anywhere that he could take him down?

He felt a slight chill, but shook it off. He needed to concentrate.

Rogers came for him in a straightforward tackle, and Loki spun out of the way, nearly pirouetting. He sent a punch to the middle of Rogers’s back, unbalancing him and causing him to reel. Loki followed up on that disorientation, kicking again for his legs.

This time, though, Rogers was ready and jumped back, stumbling again slightly. Loki pressed his advantage, closing in and attempting to tackle the Captain the same way he had tried, moments before. Rogers, however, had found his feet, and sent a kick to Loki’s chest, knocking him to the floor.

Again, Rogers dropped on him, and this time Loki immediately used his strength to roll them, but this time Rogers was prepared for it, and resisted. Loki struggled against the force pressing back at him. Neither was willing to let up, and they were matched, as a count began. One, two, three-- Loki flung his head upwards and crashed their skulls together, causing Rogers to spring back and away from him in surprise. He followed, flipping their positions, but when he loomed over Rogers’ prone form, the moment the Captain’s head hit the ground, Loki felt sick… like there was something seriously wrong with his stomach.

The surprise threw him, and Rogers flipped their positions again, and though Loki struggled, it felt as though someone was doing something horrible-- dragging a knife through him over and over, or--

 

_\--you fucking dare hurt him. I will end you._

 

Loki laughed while he fell backwards against the ground, effectively giving in. It seemed he had been testing more than he realized. He stared placidly up at Rogers, whose face went from mistrustful to surprised to oddly flustered. Was he ashamed to be winning when Loki was clearly throwing the match? That was a shame; Loki had more important things to deal with just then, though. The ten count was called.

“What the hell was that?” Fury asked while Rogers helped him up. Loki kept his eyes averted and spoke lowly and quickly.

“Captain, I think you should contact Barnes. He seems to have gotten the wrong idea about what we were just… well. He is not pleased with me.”

He turned his attention to Fury, then, dismissing Rogers completely.

“I thought perhaps you had seen enough. Had I continued the fight, it would only have escalated… and one of us would have ended up injured. Which as we agreed, neither of us want. We seem to be reasonably well matched, he and I.”

Fury looked unconvinced but he nodded just the same.

“Cap, you still think you can handle him, if you need to? Still want to give him guns and take him on the road with you?”  
  
“Absolutely.” Rogers responded, not a moment’s hesitation apparent in his voice. And so, like that, the choice was made, and Loki was hustled off to be outfitted, while Steve made a few phone calls.


	4. Four

By the time they were allowed to leave, Loki had a large bag of supplies, most of which he planned to abandon at Rogers’s apartment, several weapons that he would carry with him, though he would have been more comfortable with his own daggers and knives and the like, and a pair of boots that, while not of elven make, were probably his favorite of the items he had been assigned. They were more comfortable even than going barefoot, which he considered to be a great achievement, and the clothing he now wore at least fit him and had the same sort of form and comforting weight as armor, though it lacked the aesthetic appeal of it.

All said and told, the trip had gone off surprisingly easily, save for how quiet the Captain had gone, after their fight.

It wasn’t until they were clambering from the car and headed back into the lobby of Rogers’ apartment building that Loki found out why.

“Can I trust you to stay here for a little bit? I need to go see Bucky.” The words all but poured out of Steve, as though they had spent the evening dammed up behind his teeth.

“Insomuch as you can trust me with anything, Captain.” He replied smoothly.

“Dammit Loki, can you give it a break for just a minute? I need to go get Bucky to a hospital because he stabbed himself to keep you from ‘killing’ me, because he thought that was what you were doing. You want to just-- can you just sit here, entertain yourself for a bit?” Rogers snapped, and Loki took a step backwards.

“Well, I am coming as well.” Loki said, confusion and shock flavoring the determined words while he shook his head. “I didn’t-- I thought he only heard me when I was a danger to myself, I didn’t realize...  I felt it but I didn’t realize-- I thought--”

“You knew.” the Captain said flatly. “When you gave in, you knew, and I--” his face went red and Loki took another step backwards, afraid of retribution.

“I did not know. It isn’t as though this link makes any more sense to me than it does to you, it is not something I have experienced before-- but all of this is irrelevant if Bucky is out there somewhere, bleeding, just because we are ill informed and uncommunicative.” He could not help but feel shaken-- and angry. “I know that you outrank me in every way, but your seniority in friendship does not invalidate the fact that we have been very close in these last months, and--”

“And he stabbed himself because of something you did and something he thought you were doing. I really don’t think it’s a good idea. Loki, please.” Rogers reached out and took hold of Loki’s upper arms.

“I am stretched really thin right now, I have way too much that needs my personal supervision, and I just… I need your support in this ok? I need to take care of my friend, we need to talk to Bruce, get him to… to teach you how to control your emotions or whatever it’s going to take to get this connection thing under control. I can’t have you going useless on me mid-mission, and I won’t be able to just take a cab every time Bucky decides that gutting himself is the only way to save the world from your misdeeds, okay? So, just for tonight-- Stay here. I have books, I have a TV, I have a radio. Sleep. Take a bath. I don’t care. Just-- behave, on your own, and let me do what I need to, okay?”

It was the Captain’s command voice, but tinged with desperation as well; a combination that did not go together.

At all.

“As you will. But please, hurry to him. If he suffers overmuch, I do not know how long I will have before I begin experiencing it.”

The look that Rogers gave him could have cut him in two, if it could have been weaponized. It sent a chill down Loki’s spine.

He wanted to protest, to say that he had not meant it selfishly, to explain that he was trying to save Steve some time and care and energy...

And like that, without a further word, he was left alone. Free for the first time, in Rogers’s home, of all places. And he could leave, if he wanted to. If people would not recognize him and hate him, if he would not be punished, slain for who he was and what he had done.

He decided that staying inside would be best.

Rogers had not been gone for long when Loki grew bored and restless. He opened Rogers’ refrigerator, but found himself as yet still too unfamiliar to be able to make much sense of the food and their packages. He understood the concept of the juice and helped himself to some of that, but left the rest alone.

He unpacked and removed the things he didn’t care for from the bag of SHIELD supplies, then repacked it smaller and tucked the remainder away in a corner of the living room, behind a brown leather chair and between a lamp and the wall. Out of the way, he figured. Unobtrusive. Inconspicuous.

He set himself to exploring the space, though it was very spartan. There were books that did not fit on their shelves-- perhaps those that Rogers had brought him were his own, taken from the many piles around his home.

It was odd, though, with so many books stacked-- neatly, yes, but still on the floor and on side tables-- that Rogers had elected to keep larger things on some of the shelves. Such as a green helmet, stars painted on it, that had clearly seen some abuse, judging by the paint that was scraped from it and the dents it held. His own, Loki wondered, or one that he had bought because it came from his own time, because it felt familiar?

Not that it particularly mattered, he supposed. It was nothing but a piece of decoration.

He drifted around, reading the titles of the books idly. He wondered what Rogers and Barnes were doing now, wondered how grievously Barnes had had to wound himself in order to get Loki’s attention.

Not knowing was tearing at him, because he knew he would be treated proportionally guilty for whatever pain Barnes went through. He wished there was a means of communicating other than pain, wished he could think his apologies, his concern, hard enough--

It hurt, knowing that his friend, the man that he had held after nightmares sent him scurrying into Loki’s sickbed, hated him now. Though he supposed he should be used to it. Everyone who cared for him came to loathe him with some eventuality.

He had wandered his way over to the Captain’s desk, and looking down upon it he was surprised not to find paperwork, no newspapers or handwritten notes-- no. Instead, there were art pads, empty paper that had been filled with sketches of buildings, this neighborhood, the SHIELD building… and places that Loki did not know. And beneath that one, a book full only of drawings of people. Barnes was there, along with a dozen others that Loki did not know. So much care was given to the faces, and the rest of them were nothing but sporadically detailed parts, sketchy areas where hair and clothing should be… like drawings from a memory, where the Captain had not wanted to invent things that he could not recall.

And a few pages later the details fled entirely, devolving to loose sketches. Action filled scribbled of agents (he assumed) mid-fight. Avengers (judging by the heights and sizes of the figures) lounging, all unfinished. And something that might have been Loki himself, with Grima standing protectively over him. Difficult to say, without faces or identifying details, but it was also difficult to divine how Steve felt from these. In the others, the viewer could almost feel the longing, the sadness… these...

He realized, with a small start, that with Grima returned to being Barnes, he was now in the same position that Rogers had been in before. His friend did not exist any longer, as he knew him. He was hurt because he was clinging to someone who wasn’t there. And by saving Barnes, he had lost Grima. The difference was that While Barnes now remembered being himself, he also remembered being Grima. He did not have to fight for his memories, and, most of all, he did not need Loki to help him in his fight.

Steve had far more claim on the man than Loki could ever pretend to have had.

And so, again, he had nothing. No one.

He felt a hollow pang at that, but he should know better. He wasn’t meant to have grown attached to Grima. He was supposed to just use him. And he wasn’t lonely, he wasn’t missing the others from the home… he was just… less powerful, without his allies.

He sat on the chair beside his packs and picked a book at random--  Something unsurprisingly about honor and war and utterly useless for Loki’s needs.

But it did send him to dozing, so that it wasn’t until Rogers stood before him that he woke with a start.

The book had fallen from his hands at some point, and when he flinched upon waking, he brought his hands up, reflexively, not needing to lift them far from where they had come to rest beside his head.

Rogers frowned, and slowly Loki registered where he was.

“How is he?” He asked softly, remembering the guilt he had escaped in his sleep.

“He’s fine. It wasn’t actually all that dangerous. Apparently,” he ground out the word, and Loki winced. “He had been educated in ways to harm himself without doing major damage. He missed most of the important stuff, and he used a little knife. Grand total of six stitches.”

The tone of his voice implied that Loki was very lucky, but there was something off about him.

“I am glad it was not as serious as it might have been. We won’t fight one another again any time soon; I hope he knows not to try and disable me through himself now?” He asked, to which Rogers nodded tersely. “Was there something else?” Loki asked after a long moment of silent expectation on the Captain’s part.

Rogers looked away, as if only just realizing he’d been staring. Loki sighed.

Of course he was not the only one suffering from this transition; for the Captain, Loki had gone from foe to friend to foe again, dead then healed and now partnered to him, and the return of his true friend, Barnes, was coupled with Loki’s status in limbo. Was he foe or friend, or did it matter? And Loki felt badly, but he could not summon the energy to try and straighten that out for Rogers just now.

He stood, forcing the other man to stumble backwards.

“I am sorry, Captain, but it has been a long day. Perhaps you could show me where it is I am meant to be sleeping?” He asked, and he saw the way Rogers flushed.

“You’re looking at it, I guess-- unless you want the bed, I can take the couch. Either way, I’m gonna have to pull out blankets, so.” He raised a finger and walked away, and Loki glanced at the long cushion with a small feeling of disgust.

Surely it was better than the ground, and better than denying the man his bed. He huffed and crossed to it to poke at the surface with his fingers until Rogers returned.

“Yes, I think this will do.” He told him, lying through his teeth.

“You sure?” He asked, surprised out of his embarrassment and his distrust. Rogers had obviously expected some sort of fight from him, despite how tired the man looked. As if Loki would not take pity on his exhaustion.

Perhaps, once, he would not have.

“I have been a prince and I have been a thrall. This is better than some beds I have seen, and less than others, but serviceable just the same. It will do.” He told him firmly.

Steve nodded.

“Alright. Tomorrow morning we’re going to go over those briefing documents Hill gave us, and see if we can’t figure out a plan of action. We need to get on the road after Sin, if we can figure out where she is.”

“And what of Barnes?” Loki blurted. “Will he join us? Or… do you think he will be alright here without either of us?” Without you, Loki meant, but could not bring himself to say.

“Bucky’s staying here. When he needs it, Sam agreed to let him stay with him.” The Captain spoke to him firmly, in a tone that said Loki was not to question these arrangements. “We’re hoping that distance will dull your connection somewhat.” Loki didn’t point out the obvious flaw with this thinking, where Barton had heard him despite being on different realms. “And,” Rogers continued, “I gave him another Stark phone, so that he can contact me if he needs to.”

Loki realized he had been hoping that Rogers would offer him a means of contacting Bucky as well, a way to apologize and ask what he could do to make things right between them.

But, he supposed both the Captain and Bucky were making it abundantly clear that the friend Loki had thought he had was gone, and would not be coming back. Barnes did not want him in his life. And Loki supposed he could hardly blame him. It was a good decision. Very sound.

Loki nodded, casting his eyes floorward.

“I am glad he has you, then. And I suppose… I will retire now. Tomorrow we will seek out Sin and go after the sceptre.”

“Yeah. Alright, well, uh-- I’m just down the hall if you need anything.”

Loki did not know the cause of this uncertainty, but he wrote it off to either fear that now Loki had control of all of his body and regained fitness, Rogers would be less safe sleeping around him-- or else purely exhaustion. Either option was viable.

He watched as the Captain made his retreat, and then set about making the best he could of the sleeping arrangement. He laid the blankets out and stretched outwards under them, but the back of the couch made his arm feel as though it was restrained. He rolled onto his side, but the angle made it feel as though he were falling. Again.

To the other side, he felt as if he were suffocating, and that was no better.

And so Loki stood and stripped the cushions from the couch and lay them on the floor, laying himself atop them gingerly.

It wasn’t comfortable. He could feel the cold and the hardness of the floor beneath him, could feel the way the cushions shifted in an attempt to separate from one another. He would not be comfortable...But then, neither was Barnes. Neither was being stabbed in the gut, he reasoned. He didn’t deserve comfort when he caused so much pain in others. And who knew where Sin was now, and what discomfort she must be in, her mind so changed from how it was before. Not to mention the rest of the inhabitants of NEST; how had their lives changed, how much of their rehabilitation did he set back?

And more importantly, why should he care? Why should he dwell on it?

With such jovial thoughts to accompany him, he tried to empty his mind and let the darkness of sleep take him. It came, but not quickly.

  
***

 

Alertness came to him all too soon and he twitched awake, The Captain’s shoes the first thing he saw, close to his face, and he flinched and curled inward instinctively, trying to protect the softer parts of his body, while his limbs shook from the cold that seemed to have set in to his very bones.

“Loki--” The Captain’s voice was strained, and Loki was groggily aware of Rogers kneeling; of the hand that lit softly on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--” He could hear the Captain swallow, then take a long, slow breath while Loki uncurled cautiously, his heart pounding. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?”

Loki blinked, trying to force his eyes to focus more quickly so that he could make sense of his situation.

He was on the floor, and the cushions had slid apart so that he was half way between the two of them, and draped over them as well. He felt stiff and sore and the shaking his muscles were doing wasn’t helping matters.

But he was unharmed by the waking, if that was what the Captain meant.

“I believe so, yes.” His throat gritted from his time sleeping, and he shook his head, annoyed that his body was healed and still so unreliable.

“I was just going to let you know I’m going for my run. If you want, you can take my bed while I’m gone. I have a feeling you didn’t get much sleep down here.” Rogers sounded rueful about that. Loki’s brow knitted; it was hardly his fault he’d been tormented by his own misdeeds.

“Alright. I will. Thank you.” If nothing else, it would give him space to stretch out the sore muscles he’d developed.

Rogers stood, and Loki sat up, his hand coming up to massage his shoulder.

The Captain took a few steps away, then turned back.

“You do know I’m not going to hurt you, don’t you?” He asked, and Loki sighed.

“I’m not afraid of you.” He said, though it was not fully accurate. “It’s just habit.” That, on the other hand, was.

Rogers made a small strangled noise, then nodded.

“Alright. You know where the bed is, make yourself at home-- I’ll be back in an hour and a half or so. I’ll pick up breakfast on the way.” He sounded as if he was bargaining, and Loki wasn’t sure why.

“Alright.” He echoed, and watched the other man leave. 

Once he was gone, he hauled himself to his feet, shook out the stiffness as best he was able, and carried the blankets he’d been given with him into Rogers’s bedroom.

As he might have expected, there was no sign it had been in use anytime recently. Whatever clothes the Captain slept in were put out of sight, the bedding turned up and the pillows laid flat. It was all very neat, very orderly, everything meticulously straightened… and Loki was going to mess it up.

He pulled his blankets over himself and lay atop Rogers’s comforter.

Whether it was the warmth of the barely-rising sun, or just the difference that not being on the floor made, he didn’t feel cold. The cocoon of his own body heat enveloped him, and soon he had drifted off into a doze, and not long after that, into a proper sleep.

 

***

 

Rogers did not wake him when he returned. Loki knew, because as he rose from his rest, he could hear the other man in the living room, speaking as quietly as he could.

The sun was high up now, and as he stood from the bed and took his blankets over his arm, to carry them back to the living room, he heard a few moments of the conversation his captor was having.

“--Don’t know that’s wise, sir. I can fly it. We don’t know what we’re going into, and I won’t risk--”

Loki hovered at the doorway, not sure if he was meant to hear. If Rogers was turning down the offer of more men to keep them away from him.

“--That was one time, all due respect, and we aren’t going to be carrying things to blow anyone up. I won’t crash your--”

He saw Loki, though, and waved him into the room, gesturing that he could take the chair, then held up a single finger. He seemed harried and Loki did not want whomever was on the other end of the call to think him out of control, because it could just be someone who could change their minds and lock him away.

“No, If it’s all the same, I think under the radar is the way to go. Hydra’s always been armed to the teeth and ready for a small army-- theirs will be bigger. But two guys, we can manage just fine. It’s worked before and it will work again.”

He listened, and Loki found himself studying the Captain’s body language, seeking some clue as to how the conversation was going.

His grip on the receiver was loose, not at all tensed the way he might have been, given the thinness of his lips-- but he was strong, Loki remembered, strong like Loki was, and this world was not built for men like them. He realized that Rogers must have to restrain himself constantly, annoyed or upset or not. No matter how strongly he felt, he could not tighten his hold on the phone or he would destroy it.

And Loki wondered how much of his life that was true of.

“Well then just drop us. We can walk the rest of the way. He’s rested now, you saw him keep up with me--” So either Hill or Fury, and likely the latter, Loki thought, because ‘Sir’s did not befit a lady.

Even one so fearsome as Hill seemed to be.

“--Briefing? Sir, Is that really--” He sounded more than annoyed now; pissed might be closer to the truth. Loki sat still, certain this somehow was his fault or his doing. “Yes sir. I will wait to hear from you. Thank you, Director.” 

Loki nodded to himself, pleased to have been right, while Rogers hung up the phone.

“They’ve got a hit on Sin. She’s back in Germany, and she was spotted in a town near one of the known bases for Hydra. I’m going to take a wild guess and say that’s where she’s headed. No problem though, because we have people on the inside. Schematics will be delivered within an hour or two. And…” Here was the pause Loki had been waiting for. “And Fury’s looking for someone willing to fly us to Germany now.”

“Director Fury is looking for someone willing to pilot a plane with me on board.” Loki translated for him. He saw the way Rogers’s eyes flicked downwards, his jaw setting. He did not have to answer.

“Wise of them.” He said, into the silence, and Rogers looked up, mistrust stamped across his face. Loki scoffed. The Captain opened his mouth to say something, and Loki raised an imperious finger for silence.

“I am not going to do anything to endanger you or I, no. But if the pilot is unwilling, they will be jumpy. Never good. Doubly so if we are to be in the enemy’s territory.” He grinned, all sharp angles and teeth. “If they are too busy looking over their shoulders, they will not be paying ample attention to what lies ahead. Not ideal.”

Rogers made a noise at the back of his throat, and the look on his face was strained at best. Loki wasn’t sure what he’d said to cause it, but he kept talking, deciding to disregard it.

“I believe you said you would return with breakfast. Have I slept too late to partake?”

Rogers tilted his wrist to look at the face of the clock he wore there, and winced apologetically.

“I’m sorry. I was going to wake you up sooner, but then the call came in, and… yeah the food I got is probably cold and not worth eating anymore now.”

Loki shrugged as if it did not bother him unduly, despite his stomach shrinking painfully in despair at the words.

“It is of no consequence. I am grateful that you allowed me your bed at all.”

Rogers looked as if he wanted to say something again, but he held his tongue on whatever it was and turned his attention towards the kitchen. He sighed.

“If we weren’t waiting on Fury to call back, I’d offer to take you out to grab something to eat, but as it is… probably better we try for delivery.”

The news that he was to be fed despite his oversleeping past the mealtime was glorious enough to pardon the loss of a trip outdoors.

“It is likely for the best, at any rate.” He agreed. “It would be unpleasant for you if I were recognized in your company.”

Rogers looked surprised, as if he had not considered it, and Loki huffed out a laugh.

“Place your order. I am going to bathe on my own two feet.” He did not bother to excuse himself more politely than that, merely retreated back to the restroom, and made quick work of his clothing and the water.

When he finally emerged again, sweet smelling and lighter feeling, he found Steve setting out dishes on the table.

In two clear bags on the counter, delightful smelling cartons waited to be opened.

“If you don’t mind some company, I figured we can eat and talk planning at the same time. Get that out of the way all at once.” Rogers said, not needing to look up to know he was there.

“You’ve information that can be used to make plans with?” Loki inquired, surprised that this was the first he had heard of it.

“They emailed me the floorplans for Hydra’s base, yeah. Once we’re done looking these over, I’ll have to destroy them, but in the meantime--” He gestured at a pile of papers on the center island of the kitchen.

“It’s something we can be doing, until we get orders for when we’re to leave from Fury. And we’re going to be on our own, so it isn’t like we have to wait for anybody.”

“I haven’t eaten, my mind is not on par with plan making requirements just yet.” It felt like whining, pointing it out, but Loki was not above employing even his stomach to get what he wanted.

“Right. Food first. I ordered-- you don’t even know what Chinese is. Well, I hope it’s okay, and there’s something in here that you can eat.”

Honestly Loki was hungry enough, and tired enough of bland food from NEST, that he was fairly certain he could eat just about anything.

Not that he would give Rogers that assurance.

“Midgardian food, while assuredly lesser, will simply have to do.” He shrugged and sank into the chair nearest him, then gestured at the table. “Go on, then. Serve me.”

Rogers stared at him for several seconds, before taking up the bags and dropping them in front of Loki on the table.

He looked up at the Captain, confused and a little shocked.

“Serve yourself.” He said, and folded his arms. “And while you’re at it, you think you want to explain to me how we went from damn near friends to this?” He gestured at the bags as if they were physical manifestations of their strife.

“Very simply. I was a prince, brought low, and I wanted you to let me die. You refused, and now I have my strength back. So I am, while not so elevated as I was, at least better than I have been.”

“Yeah but you agreed to sleep on my couch, and then took the floor when that didn’t work, without complaining. You can’t make up your mind about whether you want to be nice to me or hold me at arm’s length-- or take killing me seriously enough that someone else linked into your mind felt the need to shank himself. When you thought you were dying, you called me Steve-- but now, you won’t call me by anything but ‘Captain’ or ‘Rogers’.”

Loki stared at him, then pushed his chair back, standing.

“You are a captor, Rogers. I have no choices, now, but to go with you into a potentially deadly situation, unarmed by my standards, to save your world, which I have already tried once to ground beneath my heel. And even if we succeed, there is no reward waiting for me. I will not be compensated, or even acknowledged, because if your populace knows I am here, they will call for my blood. And the one thing which could improve my state, the sceptre, you would deny me. Besides that, I now have no privacy in my own mind, the man who tortured me thinks he can walk back into my life as a brother, and even death will not allow me to escape from this punishment. You give me no escape, no reason to live, and no hope, and you ask why I act as I do?” He was incredulous, he was angry, and he was not going to continue playing this game.

“Oh.” Was really all Rogers seemed capable of saying, so Loki scowled and tore open the bags, opened the first carton he came upon, took up the wooden stakes that seemed to serve as utensils, and gathered the papers, before retreating into the living room area.

“Enjoy your dinner,  _Captain_.” He told him, malice not masked in the least.

Rogers looked like he wanted to object, argue, perhaps even apologize, but Loki was having none of it. He ignored him, only noticing when Rogers finally opened one of the other cartons and picked at the contents using both of his stakes.

Loki, on the other hand, was unable to make them work, and so settled for stabbing through the fried and gooey meat with one of his.

The sauce was made with something that left his tongue feeling swollen and blistered, but he ate more of it just the same, refusing to return to the table so that he could eat something else. He could not make sense of the paperwork he was reading, either, but he was stubborn, and as he said, he had no reason to care for any of this. Not anymore.

In his head, he felt the prying sensation, like Bucky Barnes was running his nails against the inside of Loki’s skull. At least it did not feel the same as physical sensation had, but it was unpleasant just the same.

“Alright, alright, okay.” He muttered, then sighed when the feeling suddenly stopped. Apparently he could hear him.

“Rogers. Explain to me these plans, I cannot make heads nor tails of them.” He stood and returned to the dining room, then stopped short, surprised to see that the Captain’s face had gone patchy and red, and his cheeks were damp.

He faltered.

“What is it, what’s happened?” He meant to sound stern, but all he sounded, to himself, was desperate. Rogers had cried in front of him before, exhausted and overwhelmed, but this wasn’t that, necessarily.

Rogers dashed the tears from his cheeks brusquely but not angrily, before turning to look at Loki.

“Sorry. It’s just-- no matter what I do, I’m doing wrong by you somehow, and that’s not what I want. I just don’t know how to fix it.”

“For all of your pretty words about being glad I am not dead, and about being friends, I think the time that I spent hidden, when I was working to learn the craft of the sceptre, it was not only Gr--Bucky who grew away from me, was it?”

Rogers looked stunned, and Loki pushed his advantage.

“You have urged me to trust you, you bemoan the friendship we have lost-- tell me, Rogers, were you certain that I was good? That I would return, that I planned to do what was right? No. You were so afraid that you went after Thor, you sought Asgard’s help. And you have chastised me for my mistrust of SHIELD. But let me ask you, Captain, of the two of us, who has had their trust betrayed more greatly of late?”

Arguably he had used the sceptre for ill, given that it had released Sin from Cynthia, but in this instance, intent did have to be taken into consideration. In which case, he was the one who was more betrayed. And, he thought, they both knew it.

“Do you want to know how to fix it? Truly? Then know this: You told me that if I could help to recover the sceptre and Sin, you had people who would find me a reason to be here, a way of living safely among the people of Midgard. I have no where else to go. So I will aid you in your mission, in the interest of my own comfort. And I will keep you from harm as much as possible, because without your word, none will have any reason to want to help me, but as for our friendship, which of us do you suppose has betrayed it more?”

Loki thought he had done a good job of being as blunt as possible, and judging by the way Rogers gaped, he was too stunned to argue the point.

“I had to go into hiding because I knew none of you would trust me enough to do the right thing. You say you try, but your first thought is always what terrible thing I have done. So much so that you honestly accused me of allowing Barnes to bleed out, knowing what was happen, rather than tell you.” And that hurt, in a way he did not want it to.

“You wish to do right by me? Trust that I can, at the very least, identify what is right and what isn’t. I may be slated forever to fail, but I do try to do what is right. When it matters. When I can. And do not invite Thor back into my life, do not attempt to… to return me to Asgard. You have seen what awaits me there, how I came to you from them. If you truly want to help me, help me to reclaim my magic. Help me to find a way off of your world, a way to go find myself some prospects, some hope for a life of my own. And do not suppose that I am going to harm those that I have proven my care for. We both know you are better than that.” He sat down and offered the spicy chicken meat back across at Rogers.

“Now. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, and for me, and help me to make sense of your tactical markings. I want to understand what we are planning.”  
  


The maps and plans were, it turned out, thorough and simple in turn. They did not know where they would find Sin, only that this seemed to be where she was headed. Rogers intended to have them dropped from the plane into the countryside not far from the hold-- close enough for easy access, but far enough that they would not be noticed. They would then make the short trek, break into the base, locate Sin, wrest the sceptre free of her, and make their escape.

He said nothing of harming her, and Loki was glad for that. He wanted no part in it, too easily able to remember the girl who had to sleep with a bit in her mouth to keep her screams in and to keep from biting her tongue.

The phone rang as Rogers was describing the doorway they would have to make their way through, in the lobby of the building, which would lead to the elevator-- more direct and better coverage than the staircase, with less entry points.

Loki gestured that he should answer and put the remains of their dinner into Rogers’ refrigerator. He wandered into the living room and lifted the sack with what he needed of the SHIELD issued gear onto the couch, and began checking and double checking the items it held, to be certain he would not miss anything, giving Rogers some space to speak to his superior.

 

When he returned a few minutes later, he looked consternated.

“So we’ve got our pilot, but he’s just getting back from another call, he gets in at around 2 this morning so he needs a full sleep cycle before going out again. The plan is for us to leave around midnight, which means staying here for another night.”

Rogers sounded apologetic, and Loki knew it was because of his shivering on the floor that morning.

He nodded silently and hefted the bag, stashing it again in its corner, out of the way.

Behind him, he heard Rogers exhale noisily.

“Look. I can-- I’ll take the couch tonight. You’re going to need your rest for the drop and the hike, and I can sleep just about anywhere.” He seemed ready for an argument, and he wasn’t wrong.

“Your life is short enough without endangering it with being underslept.” He snapped. “I will make do, as I did last night.” Though he did not look forward to the cold or the way his bones ached from it again. He would be fine.

“I wouldn’t have left you out here if I’d realized the couch wouldn’t be wide enough for you.” Rogers told him, defensive, and Loki shrugged.

“And what makes you think, then, that you will fare any better? You are wider across than I.” He pointed out. “This is foolish. Either we may take your bed in turns, or we can share it. It seemed wide enough for two, and it isn’t as though neither of us has slept in the other’s presence before.”

He could see Rogers’s hesitation and turned back to his bag, fiddling with it uselessly, to mask the hurt.

“But then, things have changed since, I suppose. If you would like to sleep first, I will find ways of occupying myself until you wake.” He gestured at the books, annoyed when Steve scoffed.

“It’s fine. Let’s-- why don’t we just share. Like you said, it’s not like you’re going to kill me in my sleep.” He still sounded uneasy though, and Loki could not help but feel sorrow that he had given the Captain reason to doubt him so thoroughly as to question his safety.

“If it would ease your fears--” He hesitated, firming his resolve before speaking. “I became accustomed to being bound when I slept, under the care of the Chitauri. If you will sleep easier for it…” He trailed off, unable to quite bring himself to say the words, though he felt the suggestion had been made.

“What? No!” He all but sputtered, and something in Loki warmed at the indignation he showed. “Loki that isn’t-- I know you feel like I can’t be your friend because I’m some kind of jailer, but… that doesn’t mean I have to… to tie you up or torture you. I wouldn’t-- is that.” He seemed to lose track of his words and change directions, floundering for a moment before asking, softer, “Is that why you sleep with your hands--?” He raised his own to demonstrate, bringing his wrists together and up to near his jaw.

“I had thought myself to have broken the habit.” Loki said flatly, the warm feeling fleeing and his chest going cold with humiliation. It was horrific to think that after a mere two days in his home, Rogers had already found one weakness of his, had been watching and taking note. Loki would have to be more careful, would have to try not to give away any more of himself, particularly inadvertently as that had been.

“I’m sorry.” Rogers apologized quickly, sensing that he had offended. “I didn’t mean-- I just. No, Loki.” He sounded sad again, and Loki cursed himself inwardly for bringing this about. “You don’t have to give up… feeling like a person, or feeling safe, just because you think-- I’m fine. I trust you. Whether you think so or not, I-- look. We have a long day ahead of us, and if we can’t trust one another through it, it could well kill us. So let’s… at least until we get the sceptre back, let’s just agree to trust each other, okay? Starting with sleeping. Neither of us will be much good without it.”

Loki nodded, though the gesture was jerkier than it might otherwise have been.

“Lead the way, Captain.” He said, holding his distance with the address and his tone, stilted and reserved.

Rogers frowned at that, but did not comment, and did as Loki asked, flipping the light switches off as he went.

Back in his room, Rogers gestured.

“I usually take the right side, but-- whatever you’re more comfortable with, go ahead. I’m just going to brush my teeth, wash my face, get into pajamas, usual bedtime routine stuff. Um, do you-- do you need something to sleep in? I don’t know how you feel about sweats-- like what you’re wearing now, um. I have thinner pajama bottoms if you want.”

Loki looked down at his garb, the SHIELD gear loose fitting and soft, made for comfort, he thought.

“This will do. I will wear the more tactical clothing tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Rogers said, retrieving his own clothes from a drawer in his dresser before retreating into the bathroom.

Loki sat, unsure what he should be doing, then stripped his shirt off and slid beneath the blankets on the bed, silently grateful for the warmth and softness of this bed, for the fact that it was not the floor, nor the restraining closeness of the couch.

He curled onto his side, turning himself away from the light that shone beneath the door of Rogers’s bathroom.

He lay there for a matter of minutes, waiting until Rogers should finish and return-- he did, at length, though when the light of the bathroom went out, a moment later, the light of his side table flickered on.

And then Loki could feel the cold of the blankets being lifted away from his form, and for a moment he was afraid he had overstepped. That he should have brought in the blankets he’d been given the night before to sleep under.

But then Rogers sighed and joined him beneath the covers.

“Goodnight Loki,” He said softly, as though he feared that Loki slept already. Loki did not answer, and after another moment, the light was extinguished.

He waited a matter of several minutes before he gave up on his tense fear that something more might happen, and he began counting, making his breathing even and deep-- a facsimile of sleep, but also calming, a good way to lead himself to rest.

Only, the Captain seemed to think it real. Loki felt the shift in the mattress as the other man relaxed, too, and then he had to fight the urge to stiffen  and cringe away when Rogers leaned in towards Loki and lifted the blankets away again.

For a wild moment, he thought he was about to be stabbed in the back, until gentle fingers descended upon his skin. Careful hands traced along the scars his father had gifted him, and he could not resist the urge to shudder, sickened and humiliated again.

Rogers seemed to take that as a sign that he had intruded, and rightly so. He withdrew quickly, and took a deep, shaky breath.

“I am so sorry.” He whispered, the words so soft that Loki thought he may have imagined them.

Rogers settled and, in time, his breathing evened. Only then did Loki allow himself to truly relax, his eyes slipping closed and the darkness taking him, relief spreading over him like another blanket, another layer of warmth.


	5. Five

When Loki woke, he was surprised to find Steve was still asleep. He’d risen so early the morning prior, Loki would have expected to be awakened by him. But instead, as he became aware of his surroundings, it became clear to him that he had been awakened instead by his position.

He had rolled as far as he could to his side of the bed, and now balanced precariously on the edge. Normally this would not have been a problem-- he would simply move back the other way, but for the fact that Rogers had apparently rolled during the night, and it was press against him, or press against the floor.

_Damn._

And he wanted to return to sleep, to take advantage of his relative comfort and the time he had left before they shipped out to who knew what sort of conditions, and what sort of dangers.

And, to be completely fair, perhaps the good Captain would not have rolled so close, had Loki not stolen all of the blankets for himself, somehow cocooning them around him.

Not that he would admit to this being his fault, of course.

Slowly, carefully, he unwound himself from the covers and spread them back out over the two of them.

Laying down, he tried to be completely still, afraid that his movements may have roused Rogers. After a few moments, though, he became more certain that this was not the case.

He let his thoughts wander, let them drift, and that often led to trouble, led to unpleasant memories that were better forgotten, but this time rather than relive tortures, his mind settled quickly. It seemed fixated on reliving the night before, when Rogers had stroked his scars, had whispered an apology to the darkness. He didn’t understand, wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear it. Didn’t know if he had been apologizing for the hurts done, the scars left, or for the invasiveness of his touch, his curiosity...

None of it quite seemed to make sense, nor to fit. Steve had apologized for all of that before, while he was awake and to his face. There should be no reason to do so secretly, after thinking that Loki slept. And certainly not so intimately as that had been.

It was… discordant. Worrisome. Not harmful, but unnerving, perhaps, was the best word for it. Then again, he was a mortal, with his tiny life, and he was about to go into a situation where it may end.

Loki was sure that could cause some strange turns of the mind. And especially coupled with the fact that he’d driven Rogers to tears-- again-- by telling him how his efforts at helping were harming him. Both times he had made him cry, that had been the case. And perhaps that was what he had been apologizing for. How he saw himself failing. How Loki had told him he was.

As though his conscience weren’t doing a good enough job at it, holding so still was making him uncomfortable, and he considered giving up on sleep, but he did not know how much he would have the opportunity to get, later.

It seemed more sensible for him to get up and move to the other side-- the side Steve had abandoned to move towards Loki. But that would mean having to acknowledge the discomfort he’d felt when Steve woke up.

And he could not move to the living room; he would be stiff and sore and uncomfortable from laying there, and he may very well need to be at his best.

So finally, after the silent debate could continue no longer, he rolled onto his back, wincing as the scars that Steve had traced hours prior came into contact with skin that burned so warm, it felt like he had been stung, at first.

Steve was hot, ran hot, and Loki felt a moment of concern; Grima had not been this warm when he’d held him. It did not seem that humans ought to be. Then again, Steve was not precisely a human. He had had more added to him, Loki knew that. It was still odd to think it, however. And what strange bedfellows they made, a frost giant and a human heat source.

But laid out like this, he could see the empty space beside him, the area Steve had rolled away from.

It seemed large enough for Loki to lay out on.

His problem thus solved, he slipped from the bed and around it, to the other side, then crawled back on, and pulled the blankets over himself, shivering even from the brief excursion.

 

***

 

When he woke again, Rogers was up, and had been for some time. He could only hope that he had not been the focus or recipient of any additional heartfelt apologies in his sleep.

He rose and made the bed, then moved carefully back out into the living room, glad of the knowledge that they would soon be leaving the apartment. Not that he wasn’t appreciative of the Captain’s housing him, but as with NEST, he knew that if limited to these few rooms, he would find himself tired of them very quickly.

“Hey.” He heard from the kitchen, and he flinched, then flushed guiltily. He had felt like he was sneaking without having intended to.

“I uh… hope you slept okay.” Loki rolled his eyes at the Captain’s seeming inability to broach the subject of their change in sleeping arrangements.

“Better than I would have on the floor.” He answered shortly, though it was true. Rogers nodded jerkily and dropped the subject.

“There’s some breakfast for you if you want it. Hashbrowns, eggs, gravy, some sausage. Biscuits.”

He pointed at each food item he named with his spatula, and Loki nodded, though Rogers sounded hesitant. Embarrassed.

“It smells very good, thank you.” It was pointless, the Captain’s shyness now, his awkwardness.

Loki thought it best to ignore it, to move on as though he hadn’t had to swap sides of the bed, as if he had no idea that Rogers had touched his scars and felt guilt or pity about them. Frankly they had time for neither at the moment.

“How soon will the car be here to take us to your airfield?” He asked, eyeing the food and uncertain if he even had time to eat.

“They’ll pick us up around 11:20 tonight, so it’s practically a full day, yet. You have plenty of time to eat breakfast, and then some.” He handed across a plate that he had dished up, then brought his own and sat at the table opposite Loki.

“You feel ready for this?” He asked, and Loki shrugged, his mouth full of potato.

He chewed and swallowed, then spoke.

“I am as ready as I can be, I suppose. And yourself? I imagine it must be terribly disarming, agreeing and planning to be dropped into enemies’ territory, with only a prisoner at your back. It cannot be overly appealing, this arrangement. Are you sure you do not want to invite The Widow or the Falcon or perhaps Barnes along, to help you subdue me if you need must?”

He spoke casually of it, and hoped that Rogers would become indignant. He thought he might find himself more at ease with the other on the defensive.

But Rogers just looked at him for a long second and then shrugged.

“I managed to hold my own against you just fine. And, you said you didn’t expect it would come to that. I believe you. Plus, seems to me Bucky can help take you down remotely pretty well, too.”

Loki scowled at that, and got the impression of Barnes being amused.

This was so much worse than the last time he’d had this kind of hole in his defenses-- at least then he’d had his magic to help stop it from allowing others to see in, to keep all but the most intense of his feelings contained. This was practically like having a shadow in his mind at all times, and he loathed it-- probably as much as Barnes loathed him now.

“Have you spoken to him?” Loki asked, aware that the pause made the words seem sudden. “About this connection we suffer, about me?” He wanted to know how much Steve knew, how much Bucky had told him… and if Steve had any insight in how Loki could reach out to Barnes, apologize at the very least. Even if he knew he could not make things right.

He had tried focusing apologetic feelings at the corner of his mind where Barnes’ thoughts seemed to come from, but he hadn’t felt anything, neither recognition or rejection, and it was hardly the same thing as speaking, any way. He felt like he owed him more.

“A little.” Rogers responded. “He seems mainly glad that you’re as discomforted by it and as uncertain what to do with it as he is.”

Loki scoffed.

“Is that your kind way of saying that he fears I will weaponize it against him, as he has done to me?” He asked archly. He put a forkful of food into his mouth, feigning a casual passing interest in the conversation, rather than his desperation for some kind of clue. And the worst of it was not knowing whether or not Barnes might be listening, right now.

Rogers shook his head, looking uncomfortable.

“I didn’t say that.” And Loki just smirked, certain that meant he had been right.

“It’s funny, how often you people suspect me of giving you the hurts that you level at me first. I think people fear most what they feel guiltiest about. You and he both are quickest to accuse me of your own wrongdoings.”

He scooped some eggs onto his fork, but didn’t raise it to his mouth immediately.

“I feel a little insulted by that actually. I’m not that boring. I would expect that both of you would know by now that if I intended to hurt you, it would be something unpredictable and nothing that you had any idea was coming… so honestly, whatever it is you and he are worrying about, you shouldn’t bother.”

He used the fork in his mouth as a sort of punctuation for that statement, pleased with himself and the way the Captain’s eyes narrowed, his face looking wary.

Loki rolled his eyes again.

“I don’t know why you seem incapable of listening; I’ve already told you you’re safe from harm from me. I need you too much for me to hurt you in any way, and risk you refusing to hold up your end of the bargain. You’re to help me find a place where most of the people around don’t want to kill me, yes? You will keep me from being forced to return to Asgard, as that idiot who calls himself my brother wants. And you’re to help me regain my powers, that I can be free of this world, along with the interloper in my own mind.”

And that was sent in Barnes’ direction, too, though he still had no way of knowing if he were there or not. If he were listening or not; able to hear or not.

“I can listen, it’s just… hard to know what to believe. You’re a walking contradiction. Half the time you want me to trust you, and the other half the time you’re saying I trust you too much. You’re not the easiest person to try and be close to, you know?” He didn’t seem upset, just… confused. Loki tilted his head.

“And why are you trying to be close to me, Captain? Haven’t you seen enough of what being close to me gains you?” He felt himself shuttering, going distant even as he spoke, and he was sure the Captain could see it in his posture, even if his words didn’t do a good enough job on their own.

“Because no one else is, and I don’t care who you are, or who you think you are, or what you are… everyone needs people. Needs friends. You worked so hard gaining them, I don’t understand how you can just ignore that now, in favor of pushing everyone away.”

They were both playing the game now, of keeping their voices light and the tone of the conversation insignificant, while discussing things that could be outright hurtful.

“And so you persist in your attempt to get me to count you as my friend. Is this under the advisement of Doctor Rivera? Building my support network into just you, so that I must be dependent, reliant-- and glad of it?” He frowned, though he was secretly thrilled at the shape the discussion was taking. “Do you not recall how that went? When I was first moved to NEST and thought you were to be used as prize or punishment for my behaviors? You cried then, too, as I recall.”

“Stop.” Rogers commanded. “Please, just stop, okay? I get it, I get that you’re working really hard at pushing me away, but here’s the thing: I wouldn’t have gone through as much shit as I have if I didn’t care about you. I could wash my hands of it. I could just drop you off where I found you and go back to how my life was before, and just thank you for bringing Bucky back to me. But I’m not going to do that, alright? Because I think you deserve better. Because I want you to be able to take the person you are now, the person who isn’t just the guy who decided to try and take over-- I want you to have a real chance at a fresh start. And yeah, I don’t know how to give that to you yet, but--” He cut himself off, and Loki watched as he turned to look at the clock.

“You’re both ambitious and optimistic. Not a realistic combination, in my experience.” Loki told him, but the words seemed to all but bounce off of Rogers, unheeded.

“You know what? We have a day. I don’t care what SHIELD advises-- they released you to me, and I think we should get out of here. What do you say?” He seemed excited by the prospect, pleased, and Loki thought he looked like a child promised a gift.

“I think you are forgetting-- again-- just whom you are with. Were not my attacks publicized? Is there anyone, you think, who does not know who I am?”

“Sure, but we can hide that. You have normal people clothes now-- I’ll give you something less notable than a SHIELD shirt, but you can wear the plain black pants… I have a couple of hats around here, we’ll stop in a convenience store and get you a hair tie and a pair of sunglasses. It’ll be fine.”

“This all seems highly inadvisable.” He protested mildly, his heartbeat pounding through his veins at the suddenness of the decision, so soon after Rogers had spoken of how he could abandon him.

Had he only just realized that he  _could_?

“No, it’s great, come on. I don’t want you to be afraid of the people of Earth. I want you to see them, really see them. As one of them. Come on, it’ll be fun. I won’ take you anywhere too busy or scary, we’ll stay out of the downtown and tourist heavy areas, but let’s just… let’s go to a park, go for a walk. I can show you what Earth looks like from the ground.”

“You would have me mingle with your people-- exposing them to me. Do you think it wise?” He tried to sound intimidating, though in truth he was terrified.

“I think you will have a much easier time fitting in if you can see how this world works, get a handle on how people interact. Because yeah maybe you’re stronger and healthy now, but you’re still stuck with Earth-- Midgard-- for the foreseeable future, right? So let me help you figure out how to be part of it. You don’t want to be dependent on me-- I don’t blame you. Call it a… a show of faith. If I teach you how to take care of yourself here, I have to trust you won’t just leave, won’t run off on your own. Right?”

“I will, though.” Loki told him frankly, and crossed his arms. “If you give me a way out, I will take it. If you show me how to exist and I can find my own way, I will.”

It was almost worth the crestfallen look on Rogers’s face, just forcing him to stop and acknowledge what Loki was saying. He watched as the animation faded from the Captain’s features, and he swallowed, looking down at his plate.

They sat in quiet for a long minute, maybe even longer, and Loki was wondering what he could say-- what he needed to say, when Rogers finally spoke up.

“What do you want, Loki? What would make you happy? What… What can I do that isn’t going to blow up on me somehow?”

Loki tried to think of something, but it was difficult, with Barnes rattling around in his head.

“Why do you need so badly to do well by me?” He asked instead of answering. “Why is it so important-- why do you always have to be so good?”

His exasperation was obvious, as obvious as the Captain’s sorrow, and neither emotion was good, neither was helpful, neither would serve them.

“I… All of the people I care about, I end up not being able to help. My mom fell sick, and I couldn’t even work hard enough to get her the medicines she needed. I was too small, too weak. And she died, and Bucky and I lived together for a while… and there was times I was too sick to hold up my end of rent, and he picked up the slack, without a fuss. And then he shipped off to war, and I wasn’t good enough to go with him.”

Loki looked him over and arched a brow. Rogers shook his head though, huffing.

“This is all the serum. Tony’s dad and this Doctor, Erskine… they made me this. Made my body like this. But even then, I couldn’t save Erskine, and when Bucky…. when he fell, I couldn’t save him. I thought he was dead. And I saved so many people, wiping out hydra, when I went into the ice, and yet… Hydra was still here when I woke up. And most of my friends, they were dead. I wasn’t around for that. And Bucky came back, and he was… he needed my help. But I couldn’t get through to him. No one could. Not until you. I’m just tired of caring for people, and being helpless to stop their suffering. It’s not-- I’m supposed to be better than that. I need to be better than that, need to stop letting everyone down.”

“And so you have fixated on me as the recipient of your help.” He said flatly, unsurprised by the Captain’s motivations, wrong though his perception was, but he failed to see how that had anything to do with him. “I’m sure I should be very grateful. But if I may, why, though-- why me? Why not help someone more deserving, someone who has not wronged you and yours as greatly as I?”

Rogers stared at him.

“Because sometimes the people who do the worst things are the people who didn’t get the… they needed help, or needed something that they couldn’t find, or get… And I think you need… well, you need a chance to-- like Bucky, he needed someone who would see him as who he was then, not the Bucky I knew, not the Winter Soldier, he needed a chance to figure out who he was for himself. You’re not a Prince, or an Asgardian, and even if you’re from the land of the Frost Giants, you’re not really that either, right? So you have to define yourself. And… you can do that here, if you get the chance. I just want to try and make that… possible.” Again, he’d seemed excited, even passionate, until he had trailed off.

“Besides,” he added, quieter. “I think you deserve it just as much as anyone. That’s why NEST exists-- why it existed. Second chances, well. It was supposed to be real second chances, not… what it turned into.”

Loki shifted his eyes away, unwilling to face that kind of honesty, particularly about himself.

“Has Barnes visited Rivera yet?” He asked, latching onto the mentions of NEST instead.

“No.” Rogers sounded relieved by that. Funny, Loki thought, and could not help but wonder if it was because he knew her. Even though they knew she had done wrong… or did she too deserve a second chance?

And Loki, did it truly count as a second chance? He he had several, hadn’t he? And still Rogers intended to make something good of him.

“SHIELD had her moved, it seems. Probably for fear of retribution.”

 _From whom?_ Loki wanted to ask, but didn’t.

“We bought out a high rise, got everybody apartments-- for all that they’re distrustful of SHIELD now, everyone that you knew from NEST seems to be doing pretty well, looking out for one another. Barton brought over the psychiatrist that he worked with after…” Rogers hesitated, and Loki nodded.

“After I controlled him. And so that person is working with them now, to help them?” He pressed, curious and hopeful for the others.

“They’re pretty much being counted as rehabilitated, or at least, they’re monitored, but being reintegrated into society as a whole. If they can make a good go of it for six months to a year, then they’ll have the choice to move wherever they want, and SHIELD will help set them up wherever that is. It’s the least they can do after… well after all that. And the rest of the other NEST inhabitants have been placed in a… basically it’s just an assisted care facility, but full of retired agents. So they’re being treated the same as we treat our own, now.”

Loki nodded his approval in response to the look Rogers gave him, like he needed and expected Loki’s objections.

“That sounds wonderful. And the children-- they have returned to school?”

The Captain frowned.

“Chris is staying with Marsha. She’s helping him get a better grip on his powers, and he has a tutor who comes in. He’s not going back to school until he is completely sure that he won’t harm anyone by accident, and until Marsha agrees with him. And Sharon is living with Melina and Curtis, who I guess are sort of a thing?”

Loki nodded at that, too, not overly surprised.

“But Sharon is near enough that she may visit Chris, yes?” He asked, and the expression that crossed Rogers’s face was an odd one, startled and appreciative and almost proud.

“Yes, they’re basically next door neighbors. They see one another every day.”

Loki relaxed a little. “Good. That’s good. You see Captain, you  _can_ do well for people-- for all of them-- it sounds as though you have made wonderful arrangements.”

He watched as the other man coughed and flushed, then shook his head.

“No, uh, not me. Most of that was Natasha and Clint’s doing. And I think Bucky advised on matters a bit.” And there was that proud look again. It belonged on his face, Loki thought.

Just not when he spoke of him. Not when he was talking about a willful murderer, a would be tyrant… a man who could not help but to do wrong, even when he tried to shrink away from it.

“You still haven’t told me what you want.” Rogers reminded him.

“I still do not know what I want.” He returned frankly. “I do not know how to answer your questions. What made me happy in the past? My family, my responsibilities. My hope for the future. I cannot say that I have any of that now.”

“Ruling for you…” Rogers said slowly. “It was about that being the only thing you knew, more than about the actual power?”

Loki scoffed.

“You mustn’t think me so good, nor such a victim. I worked hard because I wanted the power promised to me. The power that Thor came by so naturally. Now I don’t have the option. It isn’t so difficult a concept.” He shrugged.

“No, you know what’s difficult though?” Rogers asked. Loki lifted a brow, expecting something idiotic to come out of the Captain’s mouth. “You say you don’t belong anywhere, don’t know anything, but I offer you the chance to get out there, see some of the world, learn a little… and you’re too scared.”

Loki gaped, then bristled.

“And why should I fear? I am strong enough now-- by all means, loose me on crowds of your innocents. It is not I who needs to fear, Captain.” Inwardly he winced, his knee jerk reaction of resorting to a threat hardly what he wanted to say. But it was too late now, too late to take back. The captain, though, just grinned.

“Oh, stop it. You’re not that much of a cartoon character. Why not just drop the whole… stop trying to be Prince Loki, world conqueror Loki, and just… just try being you, the way you can be?”

“Good, you mean. Human, if not mortal.” He finished for him, frowning, though he found himself entertaining the notion. “Because I’m not. And while I can be things that I am not, naturally, I don’t have my magic at the moment, I can’t just change into what you want me to be. But if it will make you happy, then yes, fine, let’s go out into your world. But whatever goes wrong, I want it recorded that it is your fault.” And things always went wrong, when it came to him. Always.

Rogers shrugged. “I’ll accept that, but I don’t think we’re going to have that problem. Come on, let’s find you a shirt. Do you wear any colors beside black and green?”

Habitually not, perhaps, but during his time at NEST he had had to branch out quite a bit. Scrubs, it seemed, came primarily in blues.

“Why bother? You are so set on taking me with you, despite my discomfort, why should my preferences in clothing matter?” He was still snippy, still hesitant to do this. Afraid, Rogers had said. Well, he was, at that. But less for himself. At the worst, the humans would just tear him apart. But for those who tried... how would the Captain react? And what would the result be, the attitudes of the people turned against him, those who might be harmed in the process of rescuing Loki turned into guilty smears on his conscience.

“I'm not trying to bully you into coming into the city with me. If you really don't want to...” Doubt had returned to his voice, and Loki cursed himself quietly.

Once he would have been glad to so easily unbalance the man. Now, though... Now he could barely keep himself in check, let alone be responsible for manipulating Rogers as well. And Barnes was an unexpected addition to this-- would he hear Loki's thoughts, be able to listen to the ways he used his words, his touches, his body language, to influence those around him?

Would he punish him if he did things the other man objected to?

There was a sense of discomfort in his mind, and Loki felt a thrum of satisfaction at that.

That satisfaction faded, though, when Steve's phone rang.

“It's Bucky.” He told him unnecessarily, and Loki stood instantly and walked away, giving him the privacy that Steve and Barnes no doubt would prefer to have.

It seemed so unfair that for all that he had been the one in Barnes' mind, that he had been the wielder of power, he could not begin to fathom invading Barnes' thoughts the way he did Loki's. Not, he supposed, that he had much taste for it, at the moment. Not after seeing all that had been done to both he and Cynthia by those who'd had an appetite for the act.

He retreated to Rogers's bedroom, a tightness in his throat telling him just how terribly he felt, how much like a child who knew his misdeeds had been discovered.

He didn't know what Barnes was telling Rogers, but it couldn't be good for Loki.

And for all that he didn't really want to go out, the thought now of having the option taken away from him... no, his digging through the Captain's wardrobe and buttoning on the first shirt he found that seemed like it would fit him-- that was an act to mollify him when he came in. That was all.

Dutifully dressed, Loki sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Rogers to come and reprimand him for his thoughts, to tell him off for even thinking he could get away with manipulating him now, now that he had someone whom he could actually trust burrowed deep within Loki's mind.

His stomach clenched at the prospect; at how he would not even be free in his mind, in his own thoughts. He had escaped NEST and their constant video surveillance, and traded it for something much more invasive. Something much more controlling.

“Hey, Loki?” Rogers finally came, minutes later than Loki would have expected, minutes after he'd hung up from the discussion with Barnes that Loki was trying very much not to listen in on.

He hesitated at the threshold of his own bedroom, waiting for Loki to acknowledge him. Loki just looked up, waiting for him to say his piece, mentally bracing for it.

“I'm sorry.” He said at last, obviously giving up on waiting for Loki to speak first. “Bucky called, uh, you knew that but. He told me--”

“I think I might pass a fair guess at what he told you. Tell me, do you feel entitled to my thoughts? Do you feel that I truly deserve to have so little of my own that even my mind should not be private?”

Rogers, shifted, made uneasy and guilty about this line of questioning.

Loki pressed.

“I am  _sorry_ that the way I am best able to feel safe is to manipulate others into caring for me, into being on my side. I am sorry that I did it to you, and that you bear the burden of it now. I am sorry I am ruining your life. I am going to try my best not to worsen it, and once Sin is found and the sceptre retrieved...”

He shrugged, well aware that they had differing ideas of what would happen then.

“That's not—” Rogers managed to look surprised. “Bucky was telling me off for not giving you a choice, not really. And... he said that I was making you feel like-- you're not a prisoner, or a weapon, and... look, if you don't want to go after Sin, you don't have to. We can find something else... maybe we can get Thor to come back, set him and you up with an apartment, and I'll go--”

“Shuffle the weight of my burden from one person to the next, you mean. Pass me off to those you can trust until the day I die. Leaving you to clean up my messes. No, Captain, I would rather take my risks with you, charge into battle half armed and unarmored and only half-hoping to survive. And if I do, I will take the sceptre and sever the connection between Barnes and myself, then, ideally, flee. You must allow me to at least free Barnes, even if you won't allow me to be rid of the rest of this. I know better than most that no one deserves to be so trapped within my mind.”

Anything after that was-- penance, probably. No more than he deserved. If only they would let him go, let him... start again or die or decide on his own fate, or if they would make their minds up about his role here. Make him a prisoner. Take him out of this limbo.

He was tired of the half-life that he had, and it hurt knowing that he'd been so close to escaping it, only to have it forced back upon him and extended besides.

“Loki,” Rogers sounded pained. “I don't--” He exhaled hard.

“Do you remember when you were helping Bucky, when you helped him find a way to be comfortable with himself and gave him a name, and when you were learning about him from me? And you helped me to talk to him?” He asked.

“You mean when I used my way with words to get close to your friend who was hurt and vulnerable, and used him to strengthen your bond to me?” Loki shot back. “Made you feel as though you were indebted to me? Yes, I remember that.”

Rogers shook his head.

“You could have done that without helping him the way you did. And if that was really all there was to it, when Rivera started giving you a hard time about it, you would have cut your losses and backed off, because it wouldn't have been worth sacrificing your own comfort. You aren't as bad as you think you are, as you pretend to be.” He was regarding Loki very closely, and he couldn't help but shift under the scrutiny. But Rogers pressed on.

“And I want to trust you, I want to think I can. But all I really need is for you to give me a chance to... to get to know you, to help you. And for you to give yourself a chance to be something you haven't been before-- the same way Bucky needed. I don't think you need a new name or anything, but I think you need to have a chance to be something outside of other peoples' expectations. And I really don't know how to give that to you, and I feel awful for not having that answer, but... That's sort of why I was hoping you'd come out with me. Come see the world, see what interests you. Maybe we can see what, if anything, we can do to help you integrate into life here easier. Because-- because I don't want you to give up on life, on Earth or in general.”

“And you think you can give me even a taste of that opportunity, Captain?” Loki asked archly, staring up at him from his seat on the bed.

“You think that you can forget the sins of my past, and not force upon me your own hopes for my future? Because you are a good man, but hardly so good as that, I think.”

Rogers rolled his eyes.

“This isn't some kind of test, Loki. It's a walk, maybe a cup of coffee or something. It's just... it's just a chance not to feel trapped. And to ask questions, and get a different view of the world than anything you could have had before. You don't have to be anyone in particular to go for a walk.” Some of his frustration could be heard, but all in all he was surprisingly patient.

“Very well.” Loki conceded, certain that he had met his match in an argument if only for Rogers' sheer stubbornness.

“Will I pass as normal for your world?” He asked, standing and spreading his arms.

Rogers's eyes traveled down him slowly, looking, Loki was certain, for anything that may be out of place.

“I still think we should do something with your hair, put it up or under a hat, but yeah. Yeah, you'll do fine.” Rogers turned to go rummage through the upper shelves of his closet, his shirt slipping as he raised his arm, and showing a stretch of his own unblemished back.

So far from Loki's own, which he had touched so reverently, so gently... remembering his pity made Loki's face sting.

He averted his eyes and turned his face away, not looking back until the other man drew nearer with the simple rounded, billed cap, which he held out for Loki to settle on his head.

He did so gingerly, perching it atop his crown, but Rogers laughed.

“No, here, like this--” he demonstrated by pulling it down and low, so that the outstretched edge hovered just within Loki's peripheral vision.

“Your clothing is ridiculous and nonsensical.” He grumbled.

Rogers froze, then withdrew his hand quickly.

“You don't have to wear it if you don't want.” He hastened to assure him.

Loki rolled his eyes.

“Leave it. If we are to venture into the world of men, I'd rather not be recognized as the monster in their midst.”

Rogers frowned, but nodded. “Alright, well, if you're ready. Is there anything in particular that you want to see?”

Loki bit down on a series of smart answers, caustic words all but bubbling over his tongue.

“How should I know?” He settled on, though his tone was gentler than his words. “What do you like?” He asked, almost as an offering of peace.

He didn't expect that Rogers should pause, his brows drawing inwards.

“I--” he broke off, and Loki felt the cold crawl through his chest and dropped his eyes.

Of course whatever Rogers liked, he would not want to expose to Loki, on the off chance that he could and would somehow ruin it.

“It doesn't matter to me.” He said, quieter. “You should just... whatever you think is best.”

He felt a sensation at the back of his mind like a caress, and he flinched.

Rogers crooked his brow.

“Loki?” He looked concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“I suspect that Barnes is experimenting. It-- it doesn't feel-- well.” He changed directions, then shrugged, the stiff, thin material of the shirt sliding over his shoulders where he was narrower than the Captain. “I've no right to complain.” He finished.

“You always have a right to complain.” Rogers said, maybe a little sharply. “If you didn't, how would I have known about the things going on at NEST? How would I have known that you needed surgery or... any of it? Look, even if you haven't learned anything else, you must've at least noticed that when you tell me something is wrong, I do my best to fix it.”

“And this? What do you plan to do? Call your friend, and tell him that the horror of his sharing my mind should not be used to discomfort me? I have caused him far greater discomfort. I deserve no less."

Rogers stared at him.

“I don't get how you can be so fierce and angry and proud one second, how you can-- you were mad that he was telling me your thoughts, and... and you should be, I think. You're right, that kind of invasion into your privacy isn't-- it's not right, it's not fair. But then you turn around and you go quiet and apologetic and guilty and sad, and-- Is.” Rogers licked his lips. “Is Bucky saying something to make you feel—?” He sounded as though he dreaded the answer.

Loki's lips twitched upwards.

“Are you asking me what is going on in my head, Captain? So soon after admitting you've no right to the knowledge?” He let his wry amusement color his words, but instantly moved to put the Captain as much at ease as he could.

“Your friend is doing no wrong. He is like a child worrying loose his milk teeth. And despite being... who he is now, and his hatred of me, we did spend a brief time as-- we were friends. He's done nothing to me to cause me to remember my place. But nor does he have to.”

Rogers did not seem to know quite how to respond to that.

“Alright, well... let's just-- let's go out and see what catches our eyes. It's gotta be better than being cooped up in here.”

 

***

 

It seemed that though there were many cars on the road ways, it was hardly an uncommon thing for people to take to their own feet, here. Loki had somewhat assumed that enclosed transport was the norm, given that it was his experience on Midgard, but then again, most people were not being hidden or kept a secret.

They had walked and then found a staircase that led downward. They had waited on an underground plateau, and then boarded a train, only to surface somewhere entirely different.

He hadn't liked the train, the feeling of the speed of the carriage causing him to lurch on his feet, as though he were standing on the back of a galloping steed. He'd stumbled into Rogers, who had had to help steady him, and he had scowled and pulled away, loathe to be so reliant on him, when he had just recently regained his own legs.

Now, walking among them, he was stricken by how similar the humans looked to Asgardians, so much so that a time or two he thought he saw a familiar face, and it only caused him to become concerned, worried that there would be some kind of fight.

But they and everyone else simply passed by, paying him no mind at all.

“Hey Cap! Cap!” A young voice called out after them, and Loki could see the way Rogers's shoulders went stiff, how, when he turned, his smile was a little forced.

Loki stepped around him, then paused, pretending to admire the view of what lay within the window of the shop he stood before, though he had little idea of what it was.

He was too busy watching in the reflection as Rogers signed the girl's proffered item-- her phone, it seemed-- and then engaged her in a brief conversation.

He seemed uneasy, but he was playing along, and Loki noticed that he was not even looking in his direction.

He could flee, run fast and far and be gone long before Rogers turned to find him.

It was staggering, his realization of freedom, different from being left alone inside. He had his back to him. Loki could blend into the crowd.

He could simply disappear.

But he didn't. It made no sense; Rogers was his protector. He needed to stay with him to get to the sceptre, as well as to retain his freedom, to keep himself out of the hands of SHIELD. So he stood, and waited, shifting uncomfortably until the Captain could disengage and return to him.

Watching as he was, Loki was not surprised when Rogers approached him. He was surprised however, when he reached out and laid his hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks for waiting.” He spoke softly, so as not to be overheard.

Loki turned his head, only a little, just enough that he could see Rogers' face.

“What else was I to do? Vanish only to be apprehended? Starve because I've no coin or prospects? You seem to think me an idiot, Captain.” His voice was barely a murmur.

Rogers just shrugged.

“I just mean that you coulda run off. So thanks for not... anyway. What did you find to look at?”

“I do not know.” Loki said simply, choosing to let the matter slide, despite having thought about it. He didn't need Rogers to know that. Though of course, he could not count on Barnes not to tell him. Perhaps he was keeping a diary to share all at once, a list of his crimes of thought.

“Looks like a toy store.” Rogers supplied. “Do you want to go inside, check it out?”

Loki did not. Everything was brightly colored and strange looking, each drawn figure exaggerated uncomfortably.

But Rogers was already moving to open the door, gesturing him inside, and Loki knew that hesitance on his part would look odd, out of place. Suspicious.

So he went, moving through the doorway to be assaulted by an almost sharp smell. It wasn't like anything he was used to, harsh and unkind. The din that surrounded him was terrible, the small dogs yipping as they ran in place before suddenly flipping into the air to land on their sides, screens blaring their messages, some overtly twee and some filled with explosions. Horrifying cacophony struck him and he looked to the Captain for instruction, his face apparently betraying his emotions, because the other man laughed.

“Alright, maybe not a toy store. Come on, we'll go find somewhere a little quieter.” He took hold of his arm, gently steering him back towards the door, and Loki found himself looking down at the touch and wondering if it was Rogers who was now playing the game of attempting to create a closeness. Touches and laughter, noise and color, and the impression of being trusted, the pretense of freedom...

Barnes stirred at the back of his mind, and he silenced those thoughts for fear of being punished for them, one way or another.

Perhaps he was too suspicious.

“And better smelling, I hope,” Loki returned. Rogers cracked a smile, and then they were back out on the street, Rogers still holding Loki's arm casually and comfortably.

And though his feelings were conflicted, he could not help but follow, finding himself tugged along and his interest piqued by the sights of Midgard-- the pets on chains and the people, the cars and especially the buildings.

Most everything seemed to be squared or rectangular, but here and there were details, differences- Loki absorbed it all but at some point fell silent, his snide remarks and murmured additions to the conversation stopping entirely, and it took some time for Rogers to catch on.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, pulling them aside next to a blue box with a rounded top.

“I am-- perhaps overwhelmed. There is so much, and the world is so large from down here.” He answered.

It was not a small section of a town, kneeling before him. It was not an empty desert, nor the top of a tower, and it was certainly not a hospital or recovery room.

Asgard seemed tiny in comparison, and he knew himself to be but a very small speck on this world, a very insignificant piece of all of this.

“Would you like to head back?” Rogers asked. Loki nodded, grateful for his offer, as well as for the chance that this stop was giving him to breathe.

“You wanna stop and grab some food first? It'll give us a chance to sit down, before we catch another train.”

Loki shook his head.

“I'd just like to go back, to have some quiet before we go rushing into fights and war, if you don't mind.”

Rogers looked a little stricken, as though he'd forgotten, but he nodded.

“Yeah, yeah of course. I'm um, let me get a cab. We'll skip the train, make it a little more quiet now. How's that sound?” He seemed apologetic, and Loki nodded, grateful again.

“I would appreciate that. To be clear, however-- I enjoyed being out, it is merely... I am not used to so many sources of stimulation. I do not want you to begin blaming yourself again for attempting to do well by me.” Loki was the one to initiate the contact this time, laying his hand along the skin of Rogers' forearm.

The Captain looked down, then grinned a little crookedly.

“Alright. Wait here, okay? I'm just going to grab us that taxi.”

Seemingly in better spirits than he had been, he waved down a driver, and they returned to his home, Loki's eyes shut steadfastly and his breathing forced into evenness to fight the warmth he could feel radiating from his brow, and the exhaustion he felt in his bones.


	6. Six

The plane they took, in contrast to the city, was surprisingly quiet. Perhaps if Loki had been able to become accustomed to the sounds of people and traffic the same way he had to the low hum of the engines, he’d have had a better time of it. But that was of no importance.

He found himself thinking that perhaps next time, he might do better, but then he remembered that there was to be no next time, if he had his druthers. They would get to Germany, retrieve the sceptre, and even if he did not reclaim all of his power, he would at least be able to take himself out of the eyes of those watching him, could step between worlds, return to Asgard… perhaps even bespell Odin, reclaim what was his. And why should he not?

It wasn’t as though Odin truly had the right to deny him his seidhr, his years… he had denied him his name, his nature… and Loki was neither his son not his subject.

The thoughts were like a scrape, not yet healed, that hurt to touch and yet demanded to be stroked, toyed with, the pain somehow pleasant and the distraction it offered just on this side of tormenting.

“Looks like she’s moving.” Rogers spoke, and Loki scowled, breaking free of his thoughts.

“What?”

“We just got a report from the people monitoring her for us, back at SHIELD. It looks as though Sin has left the village and is headed for the hold. We may not have the luxury of hiking in.” Rogers sounded… regretful, Loki supposed, about that, but at the same time his voice had changed, too, taking on the pitch of the Captain, commanding and authoritative.

Falling into the role. No doubt the same spark of adrenaline that Loki was feeling now was to blame for the change.

“How far away are we?” Loki inquired, cautious, because the idea of not being able to hike sounded quite a lot like they may be attacking from air, or worse-- jumping from the plane as it moved.

The last time he’d had that particular pleasure, he’d been held by Thor and by and large invulnerable. He no longer had the magic pooling within him to heal any damage, so he was much less eager to repeat the experience. Especially after having just escaped the time he’d spent trapped in his own weak and failing form.

“Good question. I’m going to go check in with the pilot. You sit tight.”

He watched as Rogers unstrapped himself and moved forwards to the front of the small craft and held on to his own safety straps, despite the smoothness of the ride.

The hum of the engines must have been louder than he realized, or Rogers had intentionally lowered his voice, because Loki could not hear the words they exchanged. He didn’t like that, didn’t like the fact that they could make decisions and exchange information, and he should be excluded, given that he was supposed to go into this fight more bare and vulnerable than ever.

When Rogers returned he looked-- if not eager, at least alert, excited… determined. It wasn’t a look he’d seen on him since Sin had escaped with the sceptre, and it was disconcerting seeing it directed at him. He looked grim, set, as though he didn’t look forward to it, but meant to do what he needed to. Like Thor had, coming for him, to stitch his lips together.

Loki flinched and slammed his eyes shut as Rogers reached for him, expecting, for some reason, to be hurt, expecting to be thrown from the plane, only to feel the Captain’s fingers brushing behind his ear and depositing something there.

The look on his face when Loki opened his eyes was inscrutable, frozen and stony, and yet Loki felt certain that his reaction had caused offense. He cleared his throat and looked down, feeling embarrassed and unsure what he could say to apologize and make it clear that he hadn’t meant it as a slight against Rogers. Still, the Captain said nothing about it, instead using the communication device he’d just placed to speak directly into Loki’s ear.

“We’re going to arrive in about five minutes, basically next door to the base. Sounds like most of the fighting is going on inside already--  Sin only walked in with one other person, an ex-SHIELD Agent by the name of Brock Rumlow, and we know from experience that you can only trust the guy as far as you can throw him. Given her current age, that’s not real far at all. So I need you to brace for the possibility that she is already down when we get there-- in which case, it’s just about getting the sceptre and getting out. Okay? I know you knew her, but… no revenge, not this time.”

“Captain, what about me makes you think I would endanger myself for someone else’s sake? You mistake me for your heroic friends.” He gave him a disapproving look, mouth curling upwards mockingly, though it only served to hide his embarrassment at his floundering. And the realization that, even thinking he’d be hurt, he hadn’t raised his hands against Rogers.

Probably because he knew he deserved whatever was coming to him. Much like Brock Rumlow did, though for different reasons.

“Do consider though that Rumlow has reasons to be loyal to Sin, or at least not to betray her, which is not necessarily the same. When she has been older than she is now, they were partners, and intimate ones at the least, if not traditionally romantic.”

Rogers’s mouth firmed into a thin line, and Loki could see the way his words were not surprising to him. So he’d known that already, but hadn’t wanted to talk about it. Loki could understand. His stomach churned with the remembered emotions that Cynthia had felt upon regaining some of those memories-- but Rogers wasn’t privy to those. He had said Rumlow was ex-SHIELD. Loki had to wonder if they’d known one another, if they had been close. If the Captain had more reason to dislike the situation than he was letting on.

Had to wonder just how many of the people that Rogers had chosen to trust had ended up betraying him.

The way Loki meant to do.

He felt Barnes stirring at the back of his mind, a sensation like blankets rustling, like a bedmate beginning to wake. He drove his thoughts away from such an incriminating path of thought.

“Well. Whatever the case, I need you to just stick close, have my back, follow my lead, and we’ll get in, get the sceptre, and get out.” Rogers looked flustered, and like perhaps he had wanted to respond somehow differently, but had swallowed the urge.

Loki just inclined his head. He wasn’t going to pick fights now. There were larger things to be concerned with.

They were allied until they reached the sceptre. From there… He turned his thoughts aside, again, well aware that he was not at liberty to think ahead, to make plans. Not any more.

But soon...

 

***

 

The process of deplaning was much simpler and less horrifying than Loki might have feared.

The pilot lowered them until the belly of the vehicle was skimming the top of the grass, and the Captain casually opened a small side door and stepped down, then reached up to help Loki out. He ignored his hand, of course, but the point remained. It was simple, it did not involve danger, and it was, altogether, not what he had expected.

But judging by the briefing that Rogers had given him, he didn’t suppose the situation was quite what he had envisioned, either.

There were no shots being fired, no men rushing to stop them. Just he and Rogers left standing alone on grass that swayed and bent but seemed otherwise undisturbed, and the plane lifted up and went to circling, apparently reaching a safe height and distance before engaging stealth mode and waiting to be called back to retrieve them.

From there, it was only a short sprint to the entrance of the base, and from the bodies they had to step over to cross the threshold, it seemed the Captain’s intelligence was correct; Sin was here.

It was quiet, though, frighteningly so, and until they walked in further, it was impossible to say why.

The first several rooms they came to were empty.

There were bodies in the corridor, but not enough. Scattered ones and twos, no sign of the mass of men that should be in a base this size. Loki could tell Rogers was feeling nervous about that, too.

“Any word from SHIELD?” He asked, speaking to the pilot, Loki could only assume. “We’re not seeing any-- oh.” They stopped in their tracks, Loki’s heart beating so loudly he felt certain that each man within must hear it. But they did not move, did not turn to face them, did not react at all.

As Rogers led them cautiously through a door into a room full of Hydra members who simply stood there, Loki began to understand.

“Sin has made use of the sceptre-- these men, look at their eyes.” As an outsider, it was borderline horrific. Or perhaps after speaking with Barnes, learning what this sort of violation was like… not exactly the same, but close enough.

As one, every head in the hall turned to face them. Each mouth fell open and, as one, each one spoke with the same cadence, at the same time, but with different acccents, different voices.

“You’re too late, Captain. Hydra is mine now.” Such simple sentences but all at once, so that their impact could almost be felt.

“Sin?” Rogers called, his voice raised and booming, as if to combat the loudness of so many. Loki shivered at the command in it, the utter lack of fear.

“It’s not too late, if you surrender now, we’ll take you back. We want to help you.”

But Loki doubted that she would respond to that; it was impersonal. And from someone that she had never known, when she knew kindness. It would not appeal to her humanity-- what she may have reclaimed of it.

“We’ll return you to Chris and Sharon, you can go back to school. You can learn how to be a child again, go back to those who love you…” Loki trailed off when an army’s worth of eerily similar laughter echoed through the hall. His breath caught, and he realized he’d been wrong.

“Bring them.” It was only Sin’s voice, this time. She glared out at them from the doorway of a room at the far end of the hall, for only a moment before she turned to go back inside. But she had the sceptre with her. He tried to point it out, opened his mouth to be sure Rogers had seen it too, when a touch distracted him, kept him from speaking.

All around them, suddenly, hands were in motion, pushing them, turning them, shifting them, shuffling after her, not lifting, but pulling them forward down an aisle formed from a lack of bodies, though the press of them to either side was enough to make Loki feel the same sort of panic that he had on the street before.

Rogers’s jaw was locked and he kept his eyes straight ahead on the door, cooperating as far as he was able, and Loki felt oddly abandoned by him then, being propelled into who knew what, and he wouldn’t so much as look at him.

He’d expected if either of them was to betray the other-- well.

There was not enough time to be concerned by this, because Sin had come back into view. Before her, a form knelt, his head bowed low, and another stood back behind her. Loki did not know these people, but it seemed the Captain did. He stiffened.

“Sin.” He said her name like a warning, but she stood perfectly still, her face placid. Though her eyes flicked up to his face, she didn’t say anything to acknowledge him. Instead, her gaze settled on Loki, and he nearly took a step backwards at the loathing he saw on her childish features.

“You wanted me to learn how to be loved, Loki, was that what you said?” Her expression smoothed, but her eyes and voice were harder than he had ever heard them. Only made worse by her next words; “Tell me,” She said, nearly purring them, “what would you know about that?”

Loki flinched.

She was so young, so small, and that became all the more obvious when the man behind her stepped forward and draped a possessive hand over her shoulder. She looked discomforted by the touch, but did not object to it. And he understood why, he knew. But Loki felt himself bare his teeth at the man, loathing him for who he was, for what he had agreed to do. For the way he moved, the way his lips twitched upwards unpleasantly-- for what he represented to Sin.

This man swung his arms and exaggerated his step much as Thor had, once. He had strength and knew it, expected everyone to kneel before him our get out of his path. Loki didn’t like him, and liked even less the way Sin was cringing away from his closeness, even though her face did not change.

“Long time no see, Cap.” The man greeted, his superficial calm laced with an undertone of restrained malice. Loki’s eyes darted to Rogers, hoping he would have some other reaction, something like assurance that he could beat this man. But his jaw had tensed, and he seemed cautious-- almost concerned. It was the first time since they’d gotten here that Rogers seemed to be less than certain about their odds. Loki’s gut wrenched at that, but he hid it behind a mask of apathy.

“Rumlow.” Rogers greeted, and took a step forward, but Sin halted the motion by lifting the sceptre to point at him, at chest level.

“I wouldn’t.” She spoke lightly. “After all, you have no idea what it’s like, having other people in your head. Pretty sure you’d like to keep it that way.” She smiled, and it was easy to see where she’d learned such an expression when Rumlow was right behind her, his face stretched into an eerie mirror image. Loki suspected that if she knew, she would hate it.

“If you’re not going to try and take us over, why’d you bring us here?” Rogers asked, and Loki thought it was a good point.

“I didn’t want you tearing your way through my army. I may need them later.” She said with a shrug, and the words sounded wrong in her voice, too high and light and sweet for the things it implied. “And besides.” She moved suddenly, kicking the shoulder of the man kneeling before her and sending him toppling backwards, onto his tied hands. “I thought you should bear witness to this.”

Loki winced as the man’s face became visible, if it could be called as much. For a moment, he thought the skin had been stripped away, thought that she had flayed him where he sat, but after the initial repulsion, it became clear that there was skin there, it was even and textured unlike the muscle of a face… this was his face, red and taut and macabre.

“You’ve not forgotten my father, surely.” Sin said, her eyes on Loki and his reaction. He turned his gaze back to her face, only vaguely able to visualize her memories, as he’d seen them. As he’d felt them.

A creeping feeling like being ill climbed in him, a sense of dread, and horror, and something else… hatred. Some of it barely remembered, but some of it too fresh, and yet too distant--

Barnes.

Loki cursed mentally. This was no time for his unfortunate parasite to be interfering. He needed his senses for this, unmuddied by the confusion that Barnes created. He looked back down to the man-- the monster-- on the floor, and did not fail to notice how none had moved to help him.

“I remember him.” Loki said softly. “But what have you made him remember?”

The blue that swirled through his eyes stood bright against the red of his skin, and it was clear that he was not himself, not in control. Hydra is mine, Sin had said. Clearly, that was true; she held the mind of its men, as well as the mind of its leader.

The Red Skull was not fighting, not trying to get up, he was not even seeing them. But he twitched a bit, head lolling from side to side as though he were having bad dreams. Or thought he was living them.

“All the memories of him that you gave me back--now I’m letting him live through them on my side of things.” Her voice wavered, ever so slightly, as she said it, and Loki snapped his eyes up to hers again.

“Do you feel better, now that he is suffering as you did?” He asked, trying to keep his tone gentle, though he knew his words were not.

“Of course not!” She snapped, and Rogers put out a hand towards Loki, clearly intending to silence him. But the way her voice wavered gave Loki some hope, however small, for her humanity, for the fact that the person he’d known was in there, still.

“What are you planning to do with him, with this army of yours?” Rogers asked, his voice quiet now, soft and even-- the same sort of voice he’d used on Loki in his sick bed. And Loki saw the way she stiffened, the way anger flashed on her face a bare moment before she lunged--

\--and sent the sceptre’s blade through her father’s throat.

Rumlow dodged around her, catching Rogers head on when he attempted to spring towards her, and through the grunt and other sounds of their collision, Loki heard her say, softly,

“Whatever I want.”

There seemed to be no real joy to the words.

And then she was turning away. 

Loki looked back at Rogers and saw him holding his own against Rumlow, and knew that he couldn’t help-- if he did, Sin would be lost, and the sceptre with her.

“Sin!” He called. He went after her, stepping over the man who lay in a puddle of blood, only a few shades darker than his skin.

He deserved to die, Loki reminded himself. What he had seen of Sin’s life, he knew that much. And Barnes, at the back of his mind, was smug about that. But as he turned his back on Rogers, he felt a pull-- Barnes would have him stay to fight. Loki shook it off, ignoring the discomfort it caused, ignoring the feeling like impending vomit rising, at the thought of Sin killing her own father-- but then, who was he to feel that way? He’d tried, repeatedly. He was here as punishment for the same exact crime. And yet--

Barnes did something to himself again, nothing disabling, nothing that hurt so bad as the last time, but it was clear he meant to punish Loki, meant to convince him to go back to Rogers’ side.

“No.” He grunted out, and pulled the damaged feeling arm close to his chest.

“Sin, please, wait-- where will you go? What will you do?”

He’d spent so long here with only his words on his side. He would not hurt her, he knew. Not if he could help it. But he needed the sceptre. It was his only hope, his only chance of regaining what was his; what was owed him. Barnes was all but thrumming with fury in the back of his mind at his betrayal.

“Leave me alone.” She called back, a pointed gesture with the sceptre sending a blast of power directly at him. He fell but stumbled back to his feet quickly.

“It won’t be enough, Sin. Being free of him, it’s not going to make it better.”

She stopped, her back still to him, but he could see the way her shoulders tensed. A fear, then. Something she worried was the truth. In speaking blindly, he’d landed on an exposed nerve. He took a deep breath.

“What you feel now, I cannot begin to guess. I am not like you, I have not lived your life. I wouldn’t presume to act as if I have an answer for your troubles.” He didn’t want to push her away by drawing her too close. “But I-- as you said. What would I know of love? It seems to me you’ve an opportunity for it. Two, even. Sharon and Chris love you.” The words were difficult to force out of his mouth, and his tongue tripped over it, the second time he said ‘love’. But it seemed his gambit was working.

“I killed somebody. A lot of somebodies. I just killed my dad.” She pointed out, turning to face him, and though the sceptre was raised, she did not attack. Not immediately, at least.

“And it is probably for the best that you did.” Loki reassured her, though the way his stomach clenched and churned evidenced that he was lying. She needn’t know that, though. He pressed on, taking another couple of steps forward.

“If you hadn’t, and Chris found out what he’d done to you-- all the things he had done to you-- what do you suppose Chris would have done? He and Sharon are so protective of you. Do you remember the day we met?”

She stared at him, a faint furrow between her brows and her eyes slightly unfocused.

“Chris had to be talked down from attacking me, because I lifted my empty hand towards you, remember? I was in a chair then. And you didn’t know where you came from or who you are. But it didn’t matter. Chris wanted to keep you safe. And do you remember, when we realized something was amiss? Everyone came together. They built a room to hide you from the people who had taken your memories from you. To protect you.”

“But I’m not--” She began, then stopped.

“What? You aren’t what they thought you were? Fine. Give them the chance to meet who you are now. They may even help you to find the balance of what you were, what you are… and what you want to become. That’s your choice now, no one else’s.” He spoke with a little more urgency, suddenly aware of how quiet it was.

There were no more sounds of struggle. One way or another, the fight seemed to be over.

Barnes gave him another strong tug, urging him to go back, to check on Rogers.

“I’m not good like them.” She said instead.

Loki laughed.

“Do you remember where you met them? Why everyone was there? You are like them, just the same. At least in every way that matters. There is no reason why you cannot make the choice to go with them, to make changes, no reason you cannot decide who you want to be, now.”

“I am not so weak.” She said, drawing herself up, and suddenly he saw in her the creature she had been made into, again. None of the girl she had been. But it lasted only for a moment. She seemed to deflate, her shoulders angling inwards, making her smaller.

“But Brock--” she sounded young, but stopped as suddenly, she realized too. “Fight’s over.” She said, voice lower, taking on her more adult timbre again. But it shook. She wasn’t sure of the outcome, no faith in Rumlow.

No idea who won. Like him. Though there was dread there-- because he knew which of the two of them he’d want to see coming after them.

Loki swallowed.

“If he won… If you want to go back, I can call a helicopter to take you. And I will hold him here. But I need the sceptre to do that.”

She looked at him for another long moment, her eyes studying him, searching for a sign of a lie.

“I’m not afraid of him.” She told him suddenly, the youthful stubbornness he heard from her somehow perfectly seated between what he’d known of her before and what he knew of her now.

“I did not say you were. Only that I would help if you need it. And…” He hesitated, but it seemed like the best option here was honesty. She’d been lied to enough. “I want to see that you are given opportunities, I want to see you safe, and happy, if you can be. But I also need the sceptre. I cannot begin to rebuild my life without it, and I need…”

“Loki!”

The Captain shouted his name from behind them, and Loki turned to see him hurrying their way. He turned back to Sin, no longer masking his urgency.

“Please.” He asked her, passion born of desperation painting his tone. “Give us both the chance.” He stepped forward and she raised the sceptre to him-- and as he took it and turned to look at Rogers, he called forth the power to move, to step between worlds and escape.

“Heimdall!” Rogers called, and then several things happened simultaneously.

The bifrost opened. Rogers slammed into him. Loki attempted to slide between worlds. The sceptre pierced Rogers’ chest. Sin screamed. Barnes slammed against his consciousness with the force of a stampede of horses. The world twisted and exploded in light and sound. He felt as though he was being turned inside out. He held on to the Captain tightly, afraid now to let go, lest he be lost in the in between.

Loki screamed.

 

  
And then they landed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This series was originally a single story, and those who read it in its previous incarnation will know that I used to have more of the story published beyond this point. 
> 
> Do not be alarmed! It is going to go back up. I just need a chance to rework some of the minor inconsistencies in world building that happened when I published before finishing my research. Please feel free to subscribe to the series for notifications when it is published!


	7. Comments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When this series was originally posted, it was as a single story. In breaking it up, I stood to lose many good conversations that were had in the comments, and I decided that was an unacceptable loss. 
> 
> Below you will find the original comments preserved in text form. These are not required reading for the story, so if you aren't someone who likes to read the whole comments section, please feel free to skip to the next work in the series. 
> 
> And to those who commented the first time around: Thank you all. It's been a joy revisiting your words!

**Chapter 1:**

 

BigSciencyBrain Fri 19 Sep 2014 02:50PM IST 

I'm going to be sitting here flailing incoherently until you post again! I love how you fill out all of the characters, their good and their bad, in such a believable way that they're all appealing and interesting even if you want to smack them. Hiding Sin in a villain rehab? Brilliant!

|

MostFacinorous Fri 19 Sep 2014 07:40PM IST 

Strong praise, when it comes from you. Thank you! Try not to flail too hard, because your arms might get tired in the process... we've still a ways to go.

  
  


Lilycxavier Fri 19 Sep 2014 03:53PM IST 

Wow, another amazing chapter! Just so much going on here. Seeing Steve call out Odin and Thor on what happened to Loki, when even he doesn't totally trust him, and Thor's reaction, that was great. Loki coming back and trying to do the right thing, Bucky/Grima getting his memories back, Death coming for Loki, this was packed with so much goodness. I can't wait to see what happens now.

|

MostFacinorous  Fri 19 Sep 2014 07:44PM IST 

I am so glad you enjoyed, and I hope you continue to do so! I'm going to get more out as soon as I possibly can. :D

  
  


Maia2  Fri 19 Sep 2014 05:14PM IST 

Oh, man, this was an intense chapter. With the cap looking for Loki. And I was holding up okay, until Steve steps out and Thor just... yeah. I can't help it. It's always Thor and Loki that really get to me. It's just everything is so very *intense* with them. They don't ever do things by half. But I was so proud of Steve, for standing up to Odin, for showing the completely ridiculous lack of logic. And I love Sam. Matter of fact Sam who is so reliable, sane. 

The bit in Bucky's mind, with the thoughts and the string and everything was beautiful.

And then Thor and his apple and just... Argh. Evil place to leave things. Evil.

Well done!

|

MostFacinorous  Fri 19 Sep 2014 07:46PM IST 

Intense, huh? I like it! I'm glad it came off that way, and I'd be sorry about the ending, if I weren't grinning as much as I can. Thank you for your kind words! Hope you like the next piece, when it goes up.

  
  


Missgnutmeg Fri 19 Sep 2014 07:44PM IST 

Your Same is fantastic. And you certainly left us wanting for more.

|

MostFacinorous Fri 19 Sep 2014 07:47PM IST 

And more you shall have, on both accounts! (Seriously though, thank you for reading!)

  
  


leet19  Fri 19 Sep 2014 08:35PM IST 

It was amazing, so much is happening, I knew Loki wouldn't just abandon Bucky and god, what about Sin/Cinthya? There's so much to know! I love your story!

|

MostFacinorous  Fri 19 Sep 2014 10:57PM IST 

I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I've more yet to tell and hopefully it will be coming soon to a computer screen near you! Thank you!

  
  


Mandarino Sun 21 Sep 2014 06:25PM IST 

I admit, seeing Thor feeling regret and guilt gave me some petty satisfaction.

But Odin, my God, even now he did not. He is a monster. 

This chapter is heartbreaking. Loki really deserves some rest, one way or another. He deserves peace.

|

MostFacinorous Mon 22 Sep 2014 06:21AM IST 

I didn't want to live up to the bookmark someone had made that marked this story as an evil!Thor story-- he had to redeem himself somehow. As for Loki, well... we shall see. :)

  
  


patty  Wed 01 Oct 2014 04:11PM IST

This is absolutely breath taking. Incredibly kudos to you for writing this epic and the characters so marvelously.

|

MostFacinorous Wed 01 Oct 2014 06:00PM IST 

Thank you so much-- that is very sweet! I hope that it continues to take your breath away-- with some breaks in between for breathing!

  
  


Ingiburger_Johnsons Sat 04 Oct 2014 08:23PM IST 

Ooooh~ You are evil. EVIL I tell yah. I postponed reading this chapter for quite a while because I was sure this was the end, and I was not ready for it to end. But then. Lo and behold! There's another chapter. But I am nevertheless relieved. We get at least one more chapter. So I'll be looking forward to that :D

|

MostFacinorous  Sun 05 Oct 2014 09:37PM IST 

Hahaha I noticed you hadn't said anything yet-- I was thinking you had been horribly disappointed! I am so glad that isn't the case!

|

Ingiburger_Johnsons  Mon 06 Oct 2014 12:28AM IST 

Never! You're just that good of a writer that you keep your readers at the edge of their seats. ;D

  
  


Zizi  Thu 16 Oct 2014 06:23PM IST 

This fic is amazing, there is so much going on and it is very well written. I love the Grima/Loki friendship and it will be interesting to see how it changes now that Bucky remembers his past. Actually it will just be really interesting to see this new Bucky, who remembers 2 different selves.

Loki can be so frustrating sometimes- his manipulations and justifying any good he does, as manipulation. It is one thing lying to others but he is totally lying to himself.

Steve is such a good guy, even though he recognises that Loki is not being entirely truthful or trying to manipulate him at times, Steve still tries to understand Loki and do the right thing. There's probably a while to go for the Steve/Loki relationship. In this last chapter, even though Steve didn't want to think it, let alone say it, he still doesn't trust Loki.

I am so glad that Thor wants to mend his relationship with Loki. When Loki talks about Frigga and that he believes he killed her, I find it genuinely upsetting. It must be awful carrying that guilt and perhaps knowing that Thor doesn't blame him will help.

|

MostFacinorous Fri 17 Oct 2014 09:36PM IST 

I am so glad everything is hitting you in all the right ways. I won't lie, I've no idea how much longer this story is going to end up being, but I do at least know where it is going. And hopefully, that is good places. Thank you so much for reading, and hopefully, the next part will continue to be good for you!

  
  


100indecisions Fri 27 Feb 2015 05:10AM GMT 

I read pretty much all of this story over the last two days and man, it's giving me a lot of feelings. I was really relieved to see Thor's reaction here, because I have a hard time with dark!Thor stories (and this one would have been weird that way, since--aside from the way he talked about Loki--Thor still seemed to be a decent person and Steve still liked him, which was hard to reconcile). But no, he's not awful, he was deceived, and he did do some pretty horrible things to Loki afterward but at least now we know that he had good reason to think Loki had completely turned against him first. (But holy crap, seeing how sincere Thor is in his remorse makes it just heartbreaking when it turns out Loki's only pretending to forgiving him to keep himself safe.)

Odin is...interesting here. I can't tell if he realized what was going on and lied to Thor deliberately so Thor would think everything they did to Loki was okay, or if he didn't realize either but somehow still thinks everything he did was justified.

Curious about one thing--Loki talked earlier about a questioning chair that they used on him after eventually taking him away from Thanos and how the things Loki said then were a big part of what hardened Thor's heart against him. Did they not think to ask Loki what was actually going on with Thanos and why he brought them there?

|

MostFacinorous Fri 27 Feb 2015 05:40AM GMT 

To be honest, at this point, you may well be in a better position to answer that than I am, just because I have been cracking away at this story for so long now, I may have forgotten plot points I put in.

I think though, if I remember my intent back then right, that they used the chair mainly to question him about Thanos's forces, because they had just realized what a threat they were faced with. And a lot of the heart hardening was Thor seeing what Loki had supposedly chosen to unleash on him. Like, he felt like he was having to go coil up the rope Loki meant to hang him with.

And if it makes you feel better, I definitely plan to address Odin's motives, and very soon, too. :)

|

100indecisions Fri 27 Feb 2015 06:09PM GMT 

No, that makes sense. I imagine the chair wouldn't have allowed Loki to say anything that wasn't directly relevant to the questions being asked, either, so if Odin and Thor never asked the right questions, the things he could tell them would seem pretty damning. Mikkeneko has a fic with a similar device, where Loki can only answer "yes" or "no" to questions he's asked while he's in the chair, and the people questioning him were still getting answers that fit their assumptions even though none of that was the full truth, simply because no one was asking the right questions and Loki couldn't expand on any of his answers.

Ugh, poor tragic siblings.

|

MostFacinorous Fri 27 Feb 2015 07:29PM GMT 

I feel like Loki tends to lend to that sort of thing anyway, just because even when he does tell the truth, it's rarely the whole truth. But yeah, definitely the duress everyone was under doesn't help.

  
  


RenneMichaels Tue 07 Jul 2015 07:56AM IST 

Good heavens, it is a veritable Marvel Reunion here isn't it.

Thanks for all you hard work. :D

  
  


Combination_NC Fri 06 Nov 2015 05:41PM GMT 

I think I had my heart in my throat the entire time. Oh thank goodness Loki had a plan, one with good intentions, I wanted to believe he did but you really scared me there! When Gríma explained Loki's message, I hoped, wondered if it could be..? And it was! Oh I was so glad it was. And, oh. How I wish Loki had responded to those messages, now, because... this is Bucky now. It broke my heart when Loki hugged him and he stiffened. It was such a beautiful moment, just before, when they were just leaning their foreheads together (I adore their friendship so much; but I could kind of ship it? I love their friendship but I could really see them together under different circumstances? Like, circumstances where they are not each others' lifelines and just started recovering from horrific torture and trauma, but that is where they are now and so I think their friendship is beautiful and perfect except not actually perfect but you know, they have heart) and then... things changed. I hope they change again, just enough so that there can still be friendship between them. If not, I think I will cry.

I wanted to cry when Steve was in Asgard to speak with Thor and Odin; when Thor had that air of justified satisfaction, I lost hope for him, I could not understand how Thor could be so cruel, and especially to Loki. And then we find out that no one had actually asked Loki about the whole thing. That family has the worst communication issues, I swear to gods more sensible than these. I am glad Steve spoke his mind to them, got Thor over to their side. I am so glad Thor brought snacks. This is such an emotional roller coaster, I am so emotionally invested, I think I need to clutch a pillow or something.

 

**Chapter 2:**

 

Mandarino Thu 23 Oct 2014 04:29PM PDT 

So fucking good!!!!

Thank you.

|

MostFacinorous  Thu 23 Oct 2014 05:05PM PDT 

My pleasure! And I promise much more will happen in the next chapter!

  
  


Red_Death_Stalking Fri 24 Oct 2014 05:45AM PDT 

I am SO happy you are continuing to write this. My heartfelt thanks to all involved in its creation. It really makes my day when I see you update each time. I do have one question I've been meaning to ask for a while, though. I noticed the relationship tag for this story reads Loki/Steve rather than Loki & Steve. Does that mean that somewhere down the line their rocky friendship will develop in that direction?

|

MostFacinorous Fri 24 Oct 2014 10:46AM PDT 

That is absolutely my intent. But, sadly, Steve is very particular about who he'll love, and Loki hasn't become that person 100% yet... and Loki's trust issues cause speed bumps. They'll get there, though!

Thanks so much for reading!

|

Lzay_Niight  Thu 19 Mar 2015 06:37PM PDT 

So Loki has to once again transform himself to fit someone image just to be 'loved'!? I really hope that isn't the case. Especially after everything that went down in this story. :(

  
  


lilycxavier  Fri 24 Oct 2014 06:51AM PDT 

This is a great chapter, everyone is so vulnerable right now, and everything is so raw. This is such a tough situation all the way around for all of them.

 

This had my heart breaking - “Yes, I suppose if your torturer was in the room, patting your hand and promising you comfort, you too would be quick to speak up. Or did you forget at whose hands I suffered the injuries you found me with?” Loki glared at him. “Thor’s gift of my years was kind, but I did not want it. Not from him. Not from anyone.”

|

MostFacinorous Fri 24 Oct 2014 10:47AM PDT 

ngl, that stuff hurts to write. But, things are on the upswing now! 

(or are they?) 

and Thank you!

  
  


Ingiburger_Johnsons  Sat 25 Oct 2014 10:51AM PDT 

So many feels~ Some chapters just really get to me. Like this one. It seems to me that Steve seems to always have a hard time expressing how he feels. That if he'd just stop being so damn awkward and just blurt out his feels, then the knot would be loosened and everyone could breath again. But life isn't always easy like that, is it? Especially with Loki. Now, I guess the next chapter will also be tough. But we're all suckers for some good drama and angst, aren't we?

|

MostFacinorous Sat 25 Oct 2014 06:00PM PDT 

Steve does a lot of bottling up, and I think he has a hard time relating a lot of the time. He can't claim to have a lot of shared experiences, and he feels bad about how rough his friends have it, so Steve is basically one of those people who, if his feelings were wounds, he'd be scared of bleeding on his friends. Especially Loki, because he's had it so much worse, from Steve's point of view. Making him un-learn that is going to be as much a process as Loki's rehabilitation.

  
  


Maia2  Sat 25 Oct 2014 12:20PM PDT 

Always so good to get a new chapter of this. And just so you know, I am dying to know what was said between Thor and Loki. But I am also glad Loki is still wary, scared. He cannot bring himself to trust him. And that hurts, so much. But it seems more believable. And it hurts that he's still so down, that he thinks so low of himself. 

Poor Steve has his work cut out for him.

|

MostFacinorous Sat 25 Oct 2014 06:02PM PDT 

Instant healing might be magical, and something I use a lot, but instant emotional healing is too unreal even in this world. But the good news is, once you hit rock bottom the only way to go is up!

  
  


MaddieRawr354 Mon 01 Dec 2014 02:33PM PST 

I hadn't the intentions of stumbling on a story so developed when I came to quench my thirst for a fanfiction where Loki and Steve were in a relationship. I thought I'd find something simple and enjoyable as usual, something that would sedate my cravings, but instead I found this. A story that was able to do so much more.

It was my first choice and I'm sure there are others to come while I anticipate an update of the next chapter, but I have to commend you on your brilliance.

I love finding these stories! The ones where you find yourself sitting, huddled in on yourself with delight, getting so worked up that you become verbal in an empty room, you're so invested in what's going on that when you see the story is still in progress you die a little because you're unsure if it will be continued. I'm overjoyed to see your affirmative response and I'd only wish to give you a sparkling review that let's you know you did right in pursuing this, that each sentence was strung together harmoniously and with striking intention. The involvement of your characters, their personality, their emotions, their broken pieces... All so spot on. Absolutely magnificent. I loved it and I'm sure I'll continue to do such.

|

MostFacinorous Mon 01 Dec 2014 07:27PM PST 

Awh, thank you so much. I promise, the next part is in the works. I have simply reached a point in the story where I have to plan multiple chapters ahead and make sure that everything is cohesive and everything will build towards the end I have in mind. Hopefully it continues to please, when I get it up.

However, if you find yourself waiting and craving something between now and when that updates, I also have a second epic story involving Steve and Loki (and they have actually already reached relationship stage in that one) with my amazing co-writer Lena7142, called Little Talks, which currently updates once a week. :)

|

MaddieRawr354  Tue 02 Dec 2014 04:48PM PST 

No problem. The pleasure was all mine. I understand, and wish you luck! I'm excited to see what you have in store. I'll definitely check out that second epic story of yours. ^_^

Update: I just looked at your page... You have Hannibal, Welcome to Night Vale, Teen Wolf, and Skyfall... I like you even more now.

|

MostFacinorous Tue 02 Dec 2014 09:31PM PST 

Just goes to show you had even better taste than you knew! I wish you happy reading!

  
  


Lzay_Niight Thu 19 Mar 2015 06:45PM PDT 

But even I have to admit Loki makes a good point. After everything he still seems unable to do anything right, and everyones else outlook on him is still relatively negative, and many will ALWAYS expect the worst out of him. Even after being cleared, there will likely be still only a handful of people who truly cares for him. And even then there is the possibility that he will fuck something up in the near future to lose even that.

First impressions are everything, and he made the worst one possible. The way shield is, they will always try to keep him under their thumb, if not directly then through Steve, who can easily be put in a very hard situation with his strong sense of 'good' and 'bad'.

Loki's situations is not setting him up for a Happy Ending, but just maybe something barely scraping that, and of course he would be satisfied with that little because he never sees himself deserving anything more than that.

I just really can't see how his self-hatred ever leaving him at this rate. Especially with things such as 'good' and 'bad' being shoved in his face constantly only furthering him to conclude he will forever be the opposite. Mainly Steve.

|

Lzay_Niight  Thu 19 Mar 2015 06:46PM PDT 

And I think Loki deserves a Happy Ending. Especially with him constantly being the scapegoat of fate. :\

|

MostFacinorous Thu 19 Mar 2015 07:46PM PDT 

Don't you fear; this story has a good distance yet to cover, and I am still trying to finish it. And I want him to have as happy an ending as possible, too...

  
  


Yersifanel Mon 01 Jun 2015 12:29PM PDT 

I didn't know I wanted a (weird, I-don-t-even-know, WTF, OMG) Bromance between Bucky and Loki until I read your story. There is something in their needy yet strange relationship that I cannot get enought of, I just... I just really like them being friends with some fucked up issues!

Anyway, your story is too awesome, I'll keep reading.

|

MostFacinorous Mon 01 Jun 2015 03:13PM PDT 

I saw this comment and laughed, and then was worried for you...

|

Yersifanel Mon 01 Jun 2015 07:35PM PDT 

Yeah... It got kinda sad with them... still very interesting. I'm almost done reading, then I will be up to date with you.

|

MostFacinorous Mon 01 Jun 2015 09:26PM PDT 

Well never you fear; I have plans for everyone and I think you will enjoy them. :)

|

Yersifanel Mon 01 Jun 2015 09:42PM PDT 

Awesome :D

  
  


Combination_NC Fri 06 Nov 2015 10:25AM PST 

I still have a lot of feelings. So many feelings. I am relieved that Loki has not actually instantly forgiven Thor, that there is still discomfort, that he still sees him as one of his torturers, because Thor, I think, has a tendency to get off the hook for things way too easily, and, well. This was a big screw-up on Thor's part. He means well and wants to mend, but still. That is not going to be easy.

And my heart just hurts so much for Loki, because he wanted none of this. I suppose he might have thought that without the sceptre, he would die rather soon and not linger in his friends head? And now that friend is... I am not certain. I think there is still affection, or there would not have been a hug, but. What on earth did Loki pick up from his mind that started him so? I am worried, now. I just want them to have their happily ever bromance after, just being total bros, doing bro things, watching terrible reality TV together or something.

I, uh, suppose Loki is going to need a new therapist.

  
  


Cellis Tue 29 Jan 2019 04:33PM PST 

Was it Loki that Rivera used Bucky to hurt?

|

MostFacinorous Tue 29 Jan 2019 04:56PM PST 

She used Bucky and what she learned about how he was treated to hurt Cynthia-- using the HYDRA methods on her.

 

**Chapter 3:**

 

Maia2  Mon 29 Dec 2014 06:56PM GMT 

Ah, good that Loki found it in himself to calm down and look at what he was doing, how he was reacting. This link thing with Bucky should prove... interesting. And poor Steve, always caught between a rock and a hard place. He definitely finds himself the "easiest" people to care about...

|

MostFacinorous Mon 29 Dec 2014 10:09PM GMT 

He's a good guy, but that does not mean he makes good choices. :)

  
  


Ingiburger_Johnsons Mon 29 Dec 2014 07:07PM GMT 

Oh dear. That link between Bucky and Loki seems to be going to be a problem. And Loki seems to still have trust issues. Well, considerably less now than in the beginning but still.... Why can't he just see that the Captain genuinely cares about him? Why?

|

MostFacinorous Mon 29 Dec 2014 10:10PM GMT 

Everyone was so busy worrying about what Loki would do to Bucky with the link, no one stopped to think it might go the other way 'round. And Loki has a lot of issues that contribute to that why... but hopefully now they're on the right track to maybe solving some of them.

  
  


BigSciencyBrain Fri 02 Jan 2015 04:35AM GMT 

This is one of those fics where you come for the Loki/Steve and end up staying for the Loki/Bucky. Just saying. Not like THAT'S a thing I ever saw coming. But...AWWW. And when I say "one of", it's really "the only one ever".

|

MostFacinorous Fri 02 Jan 2015 03:55PM GMT 

Oddly enough, when I started, I didn't even intend to have Bucky in the story. He just sort of happened in MCU, and I felt like I needed him to be relevant. So much about this story is unintended. I just kinda slipped in it and was like, "...yeah ok let's go with that."

 

lilycxavier  Sat 03 Jan 2015 12:31AM GMT 

I'm so glad to see another chapter of this story! The link with Bucky and how he reacted at the end is interesting. I wonder how this will play out as Loki and Steve's relationship moves forward. I don't blame Loki for still not trusting Steve, he's never really had any reason to trust anyone, it can't be expected that he'll suddenly just be able to trust because Steve is well-meaning.

|

MostFacinorous Sat 03 Jan 2015 01:55AM GMT 

Sorry it took me so long! I ran into a block, and with doing the other Steve/Loki story I'm working on, it got hard to keep them separated. I'm back up and running now, though. :) Thanks for sticking with me through that unscheduled hiatus.

  
  


Combination_NC Fri 06 Nov 2015 07:12PM GMT 

I have to admit, the welcome Shield gave them made me very, very nervous, but I think it is good for Steve to see that they are not so benevolent organisation that they would not take/create the chance to take someone like Loki out for the sake of it. The link between Loki and Bucky is intriguing, and I wonder how far it goes, just how much and what details it is able to carry through. Hopefully Steve told him he is taking Loki out in the field so there will be no misunderstandings (I do so miss Loki and Bucky being total bros though).

Honestly though, if anyone could weaponize a carpet, it would be Loki.

  
  


Cellis  Tue 29 Jan 2019 05:24PM PST 

Oh Bucky! What is gonna happen when they get together ??😉😉

  
  


**Chapter 4:**

 

missgnutmeg  Thu 12 Feb 2015 08:34PM GMT 

This was such a sweet sad chapter. Can't wait for more.

  
  


NotSoSpecial  Thu 12 Feb 2015 11:38PM GMT 

This chapter was amazing as always. Can't wait for the next update!

  
  


Lilycxavier Fri 13 Feb 2015 01:49AM GMT 

This was a great chapter. I really liked that Loki was being blunt with Steve. I know Steve means well, but everything Loki said was true. All along, they've wanted Loki to show trust but he's never really been given trust back, and he has truly been betrayed over and over again. I hope that they can begin to move towards a truer friendship.

|

MostFacinorous Fri 13 Feb 2015 09:39AM GMT 

Loki's his own man now, to a much greater extent. He can start calling Steve out on things with less fear of repercussions. And so he will. :)

  
  


mandarino  Sun 15 Feb 2015 10:01PM GMT 

Loki is so right: Steve and his rightousness....

Excellent chapter, please update soon .

|

MostFacinorous  Sun 15 Feb 2015 11:05PM GMT 

Loki's also not the most reliable of narrators, and I think it quick to take offense, especially now. He's not wrong, but maybe a little bit too into making Steve feel bad. It'll even out eventually, though, I'm sure. :)

  
  


Maia2  Wed 18 Feb 2015 10:19PM GMT 

I am glad Loki had the chance to get some of his feelings off his chest and though he does still have the tendency to always make himself the victim, it's not like he was wrong on most of it. I feel terribly bad for Steve. He's a good guy, he's trying to do right by both Loki and Bucky and the world at large. He doesn't know what goes on in Loki's head, so he cannot understand half of the underlying feelings and fears. Poor Steve. But it all feels so real. The type of feelings and misunderstandings real people have because we never fully communicate, we're all different and complicated.

I wish Bucky'll find a way to talk to Loki, to let him know he's not forgotten, discarded.

Thanks for the update.

|

MostFacinorous  Thu 19 Feb 2015 10:55PM GMT 

If there is anything I love about Loki more than the rest, it's his ability to weaponize anything, including his own hurts. Poor Steve, being the target for it, though. And Bucky is part of the source for those hurts, so I would expect only more of the same until they have made some peace. 

Thanks for reading!

  
  


100indecisions Thu 26 Feb 2015 10:35PM GMT 

I have very little comics knowledge and had no idea who any of the NEST inmates were until I looked them up. Now that I've read about Sin, particularly how the God of Fear is relevant to her storyline, I'll admit to being juuuuust a little nervous where you're going with this. (I mean, mostly I'm worried about Loki, because he's my priority as usual, but still. Also the Richard II reference made me look that up and then worry about him some more.)

|

MostFacinorous Fri 27 Feb 2015 12:59AM GMT 

Luckily for you I know very little about the comics myself, and am admittedly playing fast and loose with what I do know. But I think you're right to worry; the little brat has learning yet to do. His care is loss of care by old care done, but he also has to contend with gain of care by new care won. And so we enter another stage of the story, just around the bend of the next chapter. :)

  
  


Maisierita Mon 30 Mar 2015 12:47PM IST 

Well, so I am very late to this party. I just found this story last week and have been slowly savoring it in bits and pieces whenever I have a few free minutes.

I just love the character development. And yes, self-loathing Loki is a big fandom trope but you do it in a really interesting way that is not too over-the-top, and I like it. It is ingrained but not melodramatic. I also love how you manage to have him view pretty much every single thing said or done to him in the worst possible way -- it's not illogical from his perspective but it does hurt so nicely. :)

The big thread that I am dying to see unraveled is Bucky/Grima. I know this is ostensibly a Loki/Steve story (and it seems you may be getting there soon now!) but really, that Loki/Barnes/Grima dynamic is fascinating.

Bonus points for Loki not being so quick to forgive Thor.

|

MostFacinorous Mon 30 Mar 2015 06:25PM IST 

Thank you! I am glad you were late to the party, if only because writing for this story has been bumpy of late, and your words are helping me to stir some ideas in my head up.

I'm hoping to explore Bucky/Grima and Loki, as well as Thor and Loki, more soon, and of course Steve and Loki will develop in its own time. Damn those two. :)

  
  


Crt Tue 14 Apr 2015 05:36PM IST 

Really loving the whole Bucky/Loki/Steve dynamic you've got going. I am impressed with how well you can show how two people can see the same situation and events so very differently. Looking forward to more!

|

MostFacinorous Wed 15 Apr 2015 07:11PM IST 

Ah! Thank you very much!

Sadly I have about 4 hours a day that I'm not working right now, but when that stops being the case, I will get out an update ASAP. Hope you can at least find a way to enjoy the antici--

  
  


Yersifanel Mon 01 Jun 2015 10:24PM IST 

Nooo, my poor heart, I like loki and Bucky being friends :(

Also... Steve...! *sob*

|

MostFacinorous  Mon 01 Jun 2015 11:14PM IST 

There there. It will get better, I promise. :D

  
  


Combination_NC  Fri 06 Nov 2015 09:09PM GMT 

Oh, that beginning hurt. It is absolutely horrifying Bucky would do that (I think everyone needs a new therapist probably, they seem to be not coping so well unattended), and so sad that they do not speak with each other. Although there still seems to be some care kept for Loki, seeing has some mental intervention can be carried through the bond, and I get the impression it is not done just because getting a taste of what Loki feels is unpleasant? But. Augh, Loki just wants to see his friend so bad? I think it was good he got to get all those things off his chest with Steve, though, because I do not think Steve had really considered all of that (and I am so relieved he flat out said not to bring Thor back into his life, because, well, yes). I am a bit nervous about Loki feeling so... abandoned and humiliated, since he is so very good at turning his own pain into a weapon. I just keep hoping he will get his friend back and be okay, eventually. And maybe be the little spoon at some point because that poor back needs allnighter hugs, augh. Does it remain unhealed due to being carved by Gungnir, I wonder?

 

**Chapter 5:**

 

Avenge_the90s Tue 21 Apr 2015 10:21PM IST 

silly observation: when i saw mostfacinorous (OMG I can spell it right without looking!) in my inbox, i thought it was Little Talks and i was all "wait is it thursday...no, WOW they're early!". Lol

|

MostFacinorous Wed 22 Apr 2015 12:32AM IST 

Haha! If it helps at all I had to triple-check to be certain I was updating the correct story. 

But no worries; Thursday will have an update as well!

  
  


FilzaTahir Wed 22 Apr 2015 09:08AM IST

It was totally awesome. ..... i hope more will be coming soon!!! :)) ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

  
  


Maia2  Wed 22 Apr 2015 01:02PM IST 

Ah, poor Loki, as if his head wasn't enough of a mess, now he has someone else in with him... But, who knows, Bucky can be a good influence if he wants to. He's already tried to nudge Steve as well when he's being too much.

I love how prickly Loki is, like seriously dude, NOTHING is good enough, huh? If Steve cares, because he cares, if he doesn't, because he doesn't. I really, really like that he just can't help himself, can't deal with someone showing care for him, because he cannot trust anyone would, because he doesn't really like himself all that much. And how he of course, overcompensates.

Poor thing.

|

MostFacinorous Thu 23 Apr 2015 03:28AM IST 

I would say at this point, Bucky is just as much of a mess as Loki is, and given how much he's certain Bucky hates him, I don't know how receptive Loki might be to Bucky's influence. :} 

Loki is complicated. It's a terrible burden for him.

  
  


BigSciencyBrain Thu 23 Apr 2015 02:30AM IST 

I feel like there needs to be a bar where we can commiserate over prickly Loki and long suffering Steve. The Bucky-in-his-head is such a fascinating wrinkle to all this and I'm very interested to see what you do with that.

|

MostFacinorous Thu 23 Apr 2015 03:29AM IST 

I would go to this bar in a heartbeat, though to be utterly fair, I am working to make him more prickly. It's an effort, since I had him so defeated not so long ago, but I think we're getting there.

Poor Steve, though. The guy never catches a break.

  
  


Lilycxavier Fri 24 Apr 2015 02:16PM IST 

I'm so happy to see another chapter of this! I don't know how Loki can ever try and find who he wants to be like Steve would like him to as long as Bucky is rattling around in his mind. Not having the privacy of his thoughts is even more confining than the previous surveillance when he was in NEST.

|

MostFacinorous Sat 25 Apr 2015 12:41AM IST 

I think Loki is only coming to realize now what exactly he's landed in, from the frying pan and into the fire. And they are, all three of them, going to have to learn how to deal with the situation as they go. Because not a one of them, soldier, prince, or asset, was trained for anything quite like this.

  
  


Astrid  Tue 05 May 2015 01:26AM IST

Your story is wonderful!

You have portrayed Loki perfectly.

 

Horsequeen1379 Thu 11 Jun 2015 05:16AM IST

I've been hugely impressed by this story so far. Wish I had an AO3 account so I could somehow follow it. Any chance this is published on FanFiction? 

Seriously, though, the emotion and the slow build of friendship... The way Loki is not changing dramatically and ridiculously but so gradually that it takes care to realize that there has been change.....

|

MostFacinorous Thu 11 Jun 2015 05:38AM IST 

Sorry; I really dislike FF.net's interface, so I don't have an account there. I do post when I have updated on Tumblr, though, if you have one of those?   
|

Horsequeen1379 Thu 11 Jun 2015 05:45AM IST

Darn it; and no I don't. My usual solution is to just stalk this site and keep an eye out for the stories I've enjoyed.

|

MostFacinorous Thu 11 Jun 2015 09:59AM IST 

:/ that is a pain in the butt. I'm sorry. But I am glad that you've enjoyed it enough to keep coming back!

|

Horsequeen1379 Thu 11 Jun 2015 01:33PM IST

Yeah! It's really well-written, so....

  
  


Combination_NC Fri 06 Nov 2015 10:10PM GMT 

I am so glad there was follow-up on what happened to the other residents; I had grown attached to them, despite not being familiar with were they all came from. They all just seemed so alive and like they had their own lives going on, if that makes any sense? They left an impression, and I am glad that Loki seems pleased by knowing they are doing okay and have contact with each other. It is okay to care, Loki, it is okay to care. And then he seems like he does not know what to do with the fact that Steve cares about him; like it is too foreign a concept for him that someone would, without manipulations. Bucky telling Steve to back off a bit does give me more hope about his and Loki's friendship. I think some distance is needed while they adjust, but I also think they need communication, because I do not think that Bucky hates Loki, not really, but Loki is just so.. consumed with the idea. I think they somehow ended up being my BrOTP along the way.

 

**Chapter 6:**

 

BigSciencyBrain Sun 31 May 2015 02:25AM IST 

*incoherent screaming*

Really. That's all. I just...there are cliffhangers and then there's THIS ^^^.

|

MostFacinorous Sun 31 May 2015 03:03AM IST 

Because when you hit roadblocks in a fic, the logical decision is to FUCK ALL THEIR SHIT UP.

Or at least, it usually works for me. :D

|

BigSciencyBrain Sun 31 May 2015 04:42AM IST 

Hmmm...perhaps I should try this strategy as well! :)

I am very interested to see what Loki will do with Steve being injured and returning to Asgard.

|

MostFacinorous Sun 31 May 2015 06:04AM IST 

Who said anything about Asgard? ;)

|

BigSciencyBrain Sun 31 May 2015 06:12PM IST 

Oh dear. Loki, Loki, Loki...

  
  


Happy_Grackle Sun 31 May 2015 01:25PM IST 

Oh, gosh. You just had to end the chapter there, didn't you? *flailing* I need to know what happens next. D:

This was lovely, though. I love the direction that you are taking this, and I was literally on the edge of my seat while reading it. Well done!

|  
MostFacinorous Sun 31 May 2015 10:21PM IST 

Well I didn't have to, but I just love all of my readers so much, I thought it best. ;) I'm hoping to have more up soon!

  
  


Neurovicky Sun 31 May 2015 04:18PM IST 

oh man OH MAN!! This is so so great, things happening all the time, I love it!!

  
  


Westwindreborn Sun 31 May 2015 05:12PM IST

I hope Steve is still conscious when they land. So loki can yell at him about how stupid it is to tackle someone holdng a sharp weapon. Did hiemdall grab Sin too? Cause It'd be real crappy to leave her there right after loki got through to her.

  
  
  


Zizi  Sun 31 May 2015 05:58PM IST 

That's a helluva cliffhanger!! I need to know what happens next!

This update was amazing, so much action. Loki's kind of breaking my heart everytime he flinches away from Steve, it just shows how fucked up he is that his automatic response is to think any contact is to hurt him. The Loki and Sin interaction was interesting, as was Loki's discomfort about Sin killing her dad. 

It probably shouldn't but Bucky made me smile, just because there was so much going on and for him it was all STEVE, STEVE, STEVE!!!

|

MostFacinorous Sun 31 May 2015 10:26PM IST 

I imagine, for Bucky, who's just regained his memories, it's a weird sudden rush of his urges to take care of Steve and frustration at not actually being there. Have you ever tried to watch something ona security camera, and the camera moves, or doesn't, and the person you're watching goes out of frame? I think for Bucky, that's what this is-- he just needs to see that Steve is safe. So no reason not to smile-- it's good that he cares!

 

Latibule_Oceans Mon 01 Jun 2015 02:27PM IST 

Dun dun duuunnnn indeed!!, omg that is so cruel to leave it there. This story is fantastic

  
  


100indecisions  Mon 01 Jun 2015 06:36PM IST 

Oh...oh shit. On multiple levels.

|

MostFacinorous Mon 01 Jun 2015 06:42PM IST 

:D No storm like a shit storm.

|

100indecisions  Mon 01 Jun 2015 08:18PM IST 

Also ;___; at Loki automatically expecting Steve to hurt him and THEN assuming Steve's angry about his reaction. baby needs so much therapy (like, therapy he'll actually cooperate with, somehow)

  
  


Yersifanel Tue 02 Jun 2015 05:41AM IST 

Oish babies. I just want to hug them all.

  
  


Maia2 Tue 02 Jun 2015 07:54PM IST 

Dun indeed. Woah, lots here. And it was going so well! No love lost for daddy dearest. And Loki did do a good job with her. As usual, by being entirely self-serving, he also helped someone else. Seems to be a pattern with him, doesn't it? I wish he'll see it at some point.

But then.. oh, no, Cap!

  
  


Horsequeen1379 Thu 11 Jun 2015 05:42AM IST

I am. So. Mad. WORST POSSIBLE CLIFFHANGER. Damn it. Please please.please update fast!

  
  


Combination_NC Fri 06 Nov 2015 10:33PM GMT 

Oh. Oh dear. Oh dear this could be deeply inconvenient but did Steve just do that to make sure Loki would not slip away between worlds oh goodness. I was having these thoughts about Loki telling Sin what he needed to hear himself, and how they both could, like Bucky, work to form their own independent identities and move forwards in life and there was hope and then oh dear. Oh dear.

 


End file.
